Barbara J. Hamby

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Flash, It’s Gone

Forgetfulness is the bane of senior years. I can’t believe I’ve misplaced my flash drive. Never mind that it’s smaller than a cigarette lighter and dark gray in color, I was certain I knew right where it was. Just to the left of my computer monitor, inside its holder and alongside the shoestring that came with it, or so I thought. Today, I rearranged the clutter on my desks and the nifty little flash drive is missing. Its holder is empty. I know I should have put it on the provided string or painted it red or something.

If it ever turns up, or I have to replace it, I will do so immediately. The old “Lock the barn door after the horse is gone” syndrome in action.

I did have some files on the flash drive, but hadn’t put everything I wanted to move onto it, because I haven’t been able to totally eliminate viruses on this unit. Until I do, I am neither sending nor opening attachments.

I’m sure flash will turn up wherever I dropped it. I ran a flashlight (pun intended) into all the dark corners, but I’ll check more thoroughly on a bright sunny day.

Meanwhile it’s time to get ready to drive to downtown Portland (ugh!) to go out to dinner (yum).