|Sums it up nicely.|
You do not want to ask to borrow my phone. Tuesday, while standing in the bathroom, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check a message, lost control of my ability to hold things, and promptly dropped it into the toilet bowl.
It was a clean bowl, so I had that going for me. My thought process, moving at less than a snail’s pace, went like this:
Don’t go in, it’s gone.
Just let it go.
That's a toilet!
I have to go in, it won’t flush down.
Arrrghhh, I’m going in!
Lil is going to kill me for ruining this phone!
The phone is sitting in a Ziplock back filled with rice. I think I may have saved it, and yet, there’s a very large part of me that wishes I hadn’t.