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1. WHERE TO BORROW MACBOOK SCREWDRIVER MAC OS X
2. WHERE TO BORROW MACBOOK SCREWDRIVER PRO
3. WHERE TO BORROW MACBOOK SCREWDRIVER SOFTWARE
4. WHERE TO BORROW MACBOOK SCREWDRIVER MAC

Recover Data from MacBook Pro Hard Drive FAQ.

WHERE TO BORROW MACBOOK SCREWDRIVER MAC

WHERE TO BORROW MACBOOK SCREWDRIVER SOFTWARE

Method 3: Migrate Data from Dead Macbook Pro with Bootable Data Recovery Software.Method 2: Transfer Data out from Crashed Macbook Pro via Target Disk Mode.

WHERE TO BORROW MACBOOK SCREWDRIVER MAC OS X

Method 1: Extract Data from Windows If You Are Dual Booting Windows and Mac OS X.I didn’t thank the friends that were attempting to help me, and definitely gave the Walgreens cashier a pretty harsh glare when he asked me if I wanted to sign up for a Walgreens Reward Card.Īnd after all that, I sent passive aggressive text messages to my friends looking for a hairdryer, and might have yelled at my roommate when she tried to use an Exacto knife to undo a screw in the bottom of my laptop.Īnd while college students are kind of stereotypically assumed to be perpetually on-edge, stressed out, caffeinated to the extreme and generally a mental meltdown waiting to happen, the laptop scene was an eye-opener.īut before anyone else has to experience the speeding-to-Walgreens-to-buy-an-eyeglass-repair-kit blues, I say we all take a collective deep breath - maybe buy an external hard drive for situations like mine - and remember: it’s not the end of the world. So yeah, I lost some of my digitalized life snippets. Even academically devastating things really don’t matter that much, I promise. It’s also not the end of the world when we miss an assignment, bomb a test or miss a deadline. It’s not the end of the world when we sleep through our alarm clocks and our first two classes of the day. Sometimes we all need to be reminded that it’s not the end of the world.

Photos are nice, and moments of clarity or inspiration that result in my jotting something down is the genesis of all my best writing.But, clutching this shiny machine as I speed-walked to a friends house to borrow her hairdryer, I felt like a woman gone mad. What I found is that I have concentrated a good amount of what I hold dear into what amounts to fancy repositories of fleeting moments - my cell phone, my laptop, its hard drive now covered in dried-up coffee. My photos – music – random thoughts that could have one day been made into a complex, best-selling narrative (because obviously, this is where I think most of my random thoughts will end up) – gone.īut despite what felt like an electronic apocalypse, I knew that to alleviate the pain of losing the only digital reserve of my life - though fragmentary at best - I’d have to learn something from my predicament. Some kid on the other side of the room in my night class - hearing my shriek and subsequently turning to witness the coffee seep out of my laptop - yelled “turn it off!” I listened.Īfter turning my computer off, unplugging it, flipping it upside down and warning my classmates of the impending pout, I slammed all my stuff into my backpack, dropped some mumbled profanities to no one in particular, used a handful of toilet paper to clean up the river of coffee flowing off the laminate of the desk and asked my professor if I could go home.įive customer service phone calls (A-M-A-N-D-A, M-O-N-T – yes, ‘T’ as in ‘Tina’ – H-E-I), three hairdryers, one sleeve of Oreos and innumerable websites giving wildly conflicting information later, I was still pouting, but luckily made it to the couch of an understanding friend’s house. After knocking my mug over with my elbow, I watched as its contents drained into my hard drive, the screen flickering, the white noise. Minutes prior, I had spilled what I later approximated to an unhelpful customer service representative at Apple as eight ounces of lukewarm coffee on my keyboard. Shouldn’t have gone to Stone Creek this morning, I thought as I sped to Walgreens to buy four bags of rice and a tiny screwdriver, tearing up, blasting the only CD residing in my car at the time - Bob Seger’s Greatest Hits - and generally acting like a 13 year old who had just gotten dumped.