Friday was an interesting day.  Not in a bad way, mind you, but in a WTF! kind of way.  I was drinking a glass of chocolate milk that morning as I sat and read the news.  My cell phone rang.  I picked it up, opened it to see who was calling, and promptly dropped it into the glass of chocolate milk.  It was completely submerged.  I assumed the situation might be problematic.

That was the end of my dear little phone.  Yes, I tried desperately to resuscitate it, stayed with it all day long just in case it came out of its coma, and even poked at it a bit Saturday to see if there was any life left in it.  I’m sad to report it was indeed dead, having suffocated in cacao-tainted bovine mammary secretions.  My heart was broken.  I really liked that phone.  And who knew milk could be so toxic?

I replaced it later in the weekend with the same model, and thankfully most of my contacts and other information were on an old SIM card (I’d recently upgraded the SIM card for expanded international service and still had the old one; what a break, eh?).

I can’t be certain there’s a moral to this story, or even a point.  Beware the cell-sucking chocolate milk?  I have a drinking problem?  I should be charged with drinking while occupied?  This is why we can’t have nice things?  Something else entirely?

You be the judge.