![\"\"](\"https:\/\/world.edu\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/05\/anxiety.jpg\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
It was a quiet evening in the bucolic foothills of academia. I\u00a0had just finished updating my lecture for the following morning \u2013 checking that the various theories expounded hadn\u2019t been discredited since last term, and that the embedded web links didn\u2019t redirect to sites of a pornographic nature \u2013 and uploaded the file to my university\u2019s shiny new content management system.<\/p>\n
One last job to do before bed: make a local copy of the file \u2013 just in case. So I\u00a0pulled out my wallet, where I\u00a0keep the USB data stick that is my constant companion. The impression left in the leather by the lump of memory was visible, but the chip itself was missing. A cold, bowel-loosening sense of loss edged down my spine. For the next hour, I\u00a0searched every pocket, wallet, floor, drawer and fruit bowl with increasing desperation \u2013 before sinking into a chair for a large whisky and some serious thought.<\/p>\n
Backtracking over my day, I\u00a0concluded that I\u2019d last seen the memory stick in the lecture theatre that afternoon. I\u00a0remembered plugging it in. Surely I\u2019d removed it at the end of the session? Nope. Running the memory frame by frame, I\u00a0recalled glumly that as I\u00a0had gone to do so, a student had come up and asked a question about assessment \u2013 then, as I\u00a0was scraping up my paperwork, the next lecturer had started making gestures from outside the door, so I\u2019d panicked and fled. Leaving the USB stick still in the console. Damn.<\/p>\n
Maybe, just maybe, it was still there \u2013 calmly waiting, with dog-like devotion, for its luckless owner to return. I\u00a0checked the time and realised that the building would now be locked and the alarms set. My hope lay in an early start, getting into the lecture theatre before the first timetabled session. I\u00a0finished the whisky, rejected the thought of another with deep regret, and went to bed.<\/p>\n
In the dark, the demons came. As I\u00a0stared sleeplessly at the ceiling, I\u00a0became increasingly anxious as I\u00a0asked myself what files could be on the memory stick. At first, I\u00a0stuck with the story that I\u00a0wanted to believe: that I\u00a0only ever<\/em> kept copies of my lecture slides on it. That was why I\u00a0carried the thing, after all.<\/p>\n Slowly, the painful realisation came that \u2013 over time \u2013 other stuff might<\/em> have crept on to it almost by osmosis. First, there were the holiday photos I\u2019d taken to get printed. Nothing too salacious there: only a bit of light drinking and some tasteful landscapes. Hang on a moment, though \u2013 what about the late-night pics of the senior common room Christmas party? Surely I\u2019m not that stupid? I\u00a0vaguely remembered that folk had asked me for prints \u2013 but what if someone found those photos on the stick and circulated them around the campus? I\u00a0concluded that I\u2019d be a dead man if that happened.<\/p>\n What else could be on there? In sweaty, furious haste, I\u00a0fumbled over the options. Possibly, just possibly, I\u2019d scanned a copy of my passport on to the stick as a \u201cjust in case\u201d before my last trip to the US. Oh well: some mild identity theft would be my own stupid fault. At least it wouldn\u2019t hurt anyone else.<\/p>\n But \u2013 oh shit <\/em>\u2013 what about the class assignments? Eighty sets of student reports, each carrying personal information and material that students had every right to expect would be kept confidential. I\u00a0knew I\u2019d copied the collection on to a<\/em> memory stick to move it from desktop to laptop \u2013 but which one?\u00a0 And\u2026and\u2026hadn\u2019t there also been a draft of an exam paper? Damn. Damn. Damn.<\/p>\n As the clock flipped over to 5am, I could clearly foresee my career in ruins, a massive class action lawsuit by my students and the prospect of my former best friends being lewdly featured in the dodgier tabloids. By 6am, I\u00a0was convinced that all these outcomes were not only possible, but inevitable.<\/p>\n At 7am, I\u00a0startled Sid the porter by being outside the building when he unlocked. The lecture theatre was in darkness, and I\u2019d already made it to the lectern by the time the lights started to come up. Nothing. All the USB ports were empty. I\u00a0searched the desktop, the shelves underneath, the carpet and even the fetid fluff-haunted recess under the console. Still nothing.<\/p>\n In deep despair, I\u00a0trudged over to my office \u2013 further alarming the cleaner \u2013 and zoned out in front of my email. I\u00a0must have nodded off because when the incoming message pinged, it was already after nine. Had\u00a0I, our departmental administrator was politely asking, mislaid anything? Because, if so, she had it in her safekeeping.<\/p>\n Sealed in an envelope and locked in the drawer of her desk lay the small but potentially explosive USB stick. After thanking her profusely and apologising for the extra trouble I\u2019d given her, I\u00a0stumbled back to my PC.<\/p>\n Nervous fingers slid the stick into the USB port. After a painful interval, the file manager opened to reveal\u2026six sets of lecture notes. Nothing else. No personal data. No exam papers. No assignments. And \u2013 gods be praised\u00a0\u2013 no dodgy photos.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n