I used to love clouds. All white and fluffy and soft. I remember my first plane ride (and even more recent ones) staring out the window, wanting to touch, wanting to loll about on them. Or the days in the grass, arms back, looking up, naming animals, shapes or just giving up, calling it all cotton candy and daydreaming. Those days are gone.
For months now, this is my cloud.
Black and white. Hard. No snowman floating in the sky to be seen. We're moving "to the cloud" at the office. People keep saying cloud, slowly replacing the old noun I knew and loved. I keep buying stuff to connect us to the cloud. My mind races around trying to grasp the concept of a cloud. Something that's not so soft, not so friendly. We've got VPNs and FTPs and networks and terminals and ip addresses and IT guys and tubes and Watch Guards and Cox Cable and EHR and techies and one Director of Support that isn't speaking to me anymore (I'm totally smarter than him) and we're scheduled to float to the cloud on Friday. Friday the 13th. Crossing my fingers that our data will be safe, that the cloud will hold it all and not mix us up with everybody else, that nothing will fall down from the cotton candy sky.
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