img829It finally happened.

I dropped my phone in the toilet.

Thankfully I was at home. But I still hesitated. Once the phone hit the water it was pretty much a goner. So what was the point?

I should probably mention that I do not use my phone all that much. Sure I have all of my contacts in there, but I can easily get the important ones back. What I found really interesting, though, was the split second of relief that I felt.

If I wanted to embrace my new inner hippie self, now I could. I could start over again – with R.J. of course once he dropped his phone in the toilet too – and no one would know where I had gone. I could go off-grid. Never mind that I’m online every day and most of my contacts also have my email address and social media handles and all that other crap.

So as much as I would like to run away from home, I’m pretty sure people could find me unless I was willing to give up my computer. I’m not that big of a hippie…

I took a deep breath and stuck my hand in the toilet. At first all I succeeded in doing was pushing the phone further down the toilet. I had thoughts of just flushing the damn thing down the toilet, but I figured it would just get stuck and we’d have to remove the toilet and it would be an even bigger mess.

So I reached even further in and finally grabbed the slippery bastard. I had fleeting irrational hopes that it hadn’t been in the water that long so it was probably okay. I would dry it out and everything would be fine…

Long story short, my phone is broken. Despite turning on once after it dried out, it won’t come back on now. Which, like I mentioned before, isn’t really that big of a deal, other than being an unexpected expense to replace it, but it made me think.

I knew it was pointless to get the phone out of the toilet, but I also felt that I had no choice. I couldn’t just let it swim in there indefinitely because it would cause more damage. Then I wondered how many other things I’ve had to do, knowing they were pointless but feeling like I didn’t have a choice.

But I always have a choice. And as irrational as it was, I really did think there was a chance that my phone would be fine. So maybe my choices, and your’s too, come down to optimism or pessimism. Or maybe it’s being able to think through the consequences of not making the responsible choice. Or maybe I’ve come to the conclusion that running away is no longer an option – that as hard as it is to deal with the people who I care about it’s preferable to being alone.



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