Somewhere on the list of near death experiences this week, I failed to mention that I almost killed my cell phone. Monday night I was laying in the hot tub; I got out and grabbed my jacket. Well, my phone was in my pocket and it fell right into the hot tub.
It worked fine for a couple days, but now it won't hold a charge. It works if I remove the battery, plug it into the charger, and replace the battery, but then only while it is in the charger.
My mother and I spent some time brainstorming ways to fix it. I was suggesting that I might ought to submerge it in regular water since I didn't do anything to get the hot tub chemicals out of it. Mom thought maybe rubbing alcohol to make sure that the water was all out. So far, I've just left it alone.
I don't have much hope for it, frankly.
Steady and I had another very boring day (he's sitting next to me and he says, "It wasn't boring. It wasn't very productive; we didn't do anything, but it wasn't boring. Maybe to the outside world..."). We did leave the house (his first trip outside since coming home from the hospital). We went to Dairy Queen. ("and Blockbuster")
"Can I write that last night my boyfriend smelled like puppies?" "I guess, but I don't know what that means."
I'm not sure how it happened, but that's pretty much all there is to that. He smelled like a puppy. Clearly, I need to get out more...
The Fine Print: 2004: I quit my job and needed retail therapy.
