Something always takes the place of missing pieces

Funny story.

Well, it's funny now. At the time, not so much. But the best stories always start out that way, don't they?

This is a funny work story. So, we have been looking for a CD containing JPG versions of several photos for almost a year. We had high-resolution TIFF versions, but it was a real pain to open each one up in Photoshop and convert it to JPG whenever we needed it. And as the only person with Photoshop in the office, I think you can figure out who had to do this every time.

Finally, I decided enough was enough. Using the wonderful batch processing option in Photoshop, I spent the morning opening all the TIFF files and converting them to JPGs. We're talking a good 500 files, and they ain't small files either. Six DVDs of images. Yes, that's right, DVDs. Bloody huge.

And unfortunately, at least one of the DVDs is missing as well (don't ask), so there were probably about 30 to 40 images we didn't have in any version. I figured we could just place an X over those ones in our printout and pretend they didn't exist or something.

It took a good part of three to four hours to accomplish this conversion task. I was a little bug-eyed by the end, but I was proud of myself for biting the bullet and doing it; it needed to be done.

After I reorganized the contents on the final CD, I started the burning process, sat back in my chair and felt a little smile spread across my face. Job well done, I say. I removed the freshly-minted CD, labelled it appropriately and felt proud of my sense of accomplishment.

I was then feeling inspired to continue the organization of our photo library, so I began to rearrange an infrequently-used section of the bookcase where we keep the photo binders.

But this one little binder would not slide into the place I chose for it. I was puzzled for a moment. What could possibly be wrong here? Why would this binder refuse to sit on the shelf? What had I done to this neglected binder to deserve its ire?

Then I saw it.

A slim CD case.

Just the back of it, at first.

My stomach dropped a little.

I knew.

I just knew.

Gingerly, I picked it up and turned it over to read the label.

I closed my eyes for ten seconds, while I tried to remember to breathe.

Not sure I was trusting what I was reading, and quite in denial over the whole situation, I placed the CD in my computer. The treasures it contained displayed on the screen in front of me.

I then sat on the floor in disbelief.

The CD that I had not only searched for in vain for a year, but spent hours re-creating did, in fact, exist. And as an extra bonus, it contained all the photos from the missing DVDs.

Now, the part that escapes me is, how in the name of everything that is holy did this CD manage to hide from me for an entire year? I actually am a very organized person, and my photographic memory greatly assists me in that ability to be organized. I know that I have never before laid eyes on that CD.

Not until today.

I didn't set out to reinvent the wheel, but sometimes, I guess, that's the only way to get ahead in life.

Good times.