It has finally happened. It is something that I never thought would happen to me, simply because I rarely ever put myself in a position for it to happen. It fills me with regret and shame and a bit of self loathing. I dropped my cell phone in the toilet.
I do not put my phone in my back pocket while I am at home. Most times it's on a couch, on a counter, on the bed, but never in my back pocket. So when I heard the "plop," I was startled and confused. It didn't take long for me to whip around and viper-like grab it out and rush to get it put in rice. I have owned many phones over the years, but never have I done anything to break them-- I've never even cracked a screen! The phones were either handed down to a child, or upgraded to a smartphone 7 years ago, at which time the clam-shell phone became a toy. I am just so mad at myself.
Randy took it into the repair shop this morning as I took Keilie to a doctor's appointment. If I thought I felt shame last night, it was nothing compared to the shame as he relayed to me that it was a minimum of $60, with no guarantee that it would work. Just dumb.
Edit: It only cost $20! They dried it all out and gave us the option of replacing the screen that had been damaged by the water, but we decided not to change it out. There is a small smear from the bottom up that looks like a thumb swipe that took away the dimness that I need for my eyes and made it full bright. But it will not spread, will not get worse, and is only a little distracting as you scroll-- not worth the extra $90. Keilie doesn't understand my joy that I will NOT be getting a new phone. She doesn't get me yet-- Once I find something that I use and love, I'm loyal to the last possible second. Brooms, Yukon XL's, phones... I get great satisfaction taking them to their last possible point of use. It's an obsession, really.
No comments:
Post a Comment