Notwithstanding our disbelief, reality has a way of getting
its point across, one way or another.
It took a few moments for my brain to silence the sound of
alarm high jacking the higher reasoning powers. At some point a rewind button was
pushed and my memory slowly started kicking in, recalling…
the last time I had
the iPod in my hand,
inside the right pocket of a jacket I wore that morning,
the same jacket I hastily threw into the laundry as I was closing the lid,
not bothering to check the pockets, since all the previous
ones were empty…
and that feeling of the Busy...
and the Rush...
and the Rush...
and the Pressure of so much other stuff I needed to get done...
(what they were now I could hardly recall
and it all felt so stupid and insignificant anyway.)
With this my heart plummeted to the bottom of the damp pile of
laundry sitting inside the idling drier, it’s rumbling cycle interrupted.
It didn’t take long to discover the lifeless naked body of
the iPod laying underneath soggy jeans and jackets.
I picked it up and put it in the palm of my hand – it’s
touchscreen face battered, black and unresponsive, despite my frantic pushing
of the power button.
Wake up! Wake up!!! No, no, no!!! What can
I do??? What can I do???
I remembered that some people recommend burying a wet device
inside a bag of rice. I never heard any recommendations on what to do with a device
that had been through a wash and a spin cycle twice and a partial drier cycle.
But I had to do something... anything!
So I sunk my hand with the iPod in it into
a giant old pretzel barrel that we use as a rice container, let the device slip and get buried in the white grave of thousands of tiny rice grains, closed the pantry door behind me, a part of me also dead and
buried behind that door.
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