Abort, Retry, Ignore

Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary, System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor,Longing for the warmth of bed sheets,Still I sat there, doing spreadsheets:Having reached the bottom line, I took a floppy from the drawer.Typing with a steady hand, I then invoked the SAVE commandBut got instead a reprimand:It read, "Abort, Retry, Ignore." Was this some occult illusion? Some maniacal intrusion?These were choices Solomon himself had never faced before.Carefully, I weighed my options.These three seemed to be the top ones.Clearly, I must now adopt one -Choose: "Abort, Retry, Ignore." With my fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the keyboard bending,Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,Praying for some guaranteeFinally I pressed a key -But on the screen what did I see?Again: "Abort, Retry, Ignore." I tried to catch the chips off-guard - I pressed again, but twice as hard.Luck was just not in the cards,I saw what I had seen before.Now I typed in desperation,Trying random combinations.Still there came the incantation -Choose: "Abort, Retry, Ignore." There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by my own machine accosted;Getting up, I turned away and paced across the office floor.And then I saw an awful sight,A bold and blinding flash of light,A lightning bolt that cut the night and shook me to my very core.The PC screen collapsed and died,"Oh no - my database!" I cried.I thought I heard a voice reply,"You'll see your data - nevermore!" To this day I do not know the place to which our data goes.Perhaps it goes to Heaven where the angels have it stored.But as for productivity -Well, I fear that it goes straight to Hell.And that's the tale I have to tell -Your choice: Abort, Retry, Ignore.

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