File this under “stupid human tricks.”
As I noted a couple days ago, I spent the weekend with my family in Tahoe– specifically, in the lovely Incline Village. (When I was on the academic job market, I was warned away from any institution with a geographical locator in its name, or a color, or the name of a topographical landmark– hence, a place like North Green River State College would have won the trifecta– but that doesn’t apply to ski resorts, apparently.)
What I didn’t mention was that, in the course of packing the minivan (yes, a minivan… sigh…), and making sure that we had Daniel’s bear and blanket, and the snow pants we’d borrowed, and as many sippy cup tops as containers, and enough tissues… I left backpack on the dining room table.
With my computer in it.
And essentially everything I’m working on, have thought about, or need to think about, on that hard drive.
I realized this somewhere between Sacramento and Davis– far too late to turn around.
Fortunately, thanks to the good works of the realty company that manages the condo, and a local packaging and shipping business, I now have my life back.
And no, we didn’t leave any sippy cups behind.
