Yesterday was one of those days.
One of those days when you have to pull a tick out of your dog's ear
only to realize you "left the head in."
(don't worry, Chris got the little sucker later.)
And thanks for all of the tick advice by the way,
wonder if that makes all of us rednecks that we not only get ticks,
we all know the tricks to get rid of them... you might be a redneck if...
you still quote that douche Larry the Cable Guy.
Anyway,
One of those days when you make barbecue chicken and the barbecue sauce bottle
farts all over your white shirt.
So why not just top the day off with a broken iPhone?
Sounds good to me.
Cracking your phone screen is the worst feeling ever.
(when it comes to petty, superficial, feelings I mean.)
I should know. This is my fifth screen I've cracked.
Last night when it happened, I literally fell to my knees in anguish.
This was all going on outside of our house, so naturally people stopped to stare,
and naturally Chris got embarrassed and told me to get up from the ground.
We were on our way to our beach volleyball game,
which we didn't make it to on account of the fact Harlow was going bat shit crazy inside and wouldn't stop barking,
and because I had just cracked my phone.
It was tucked inside the sweatshirt I was bringing, which in hindsight,
probably wasn't necessary to bring given it was 80 degrees outside...
And as soon as it fell smack onto the ground, I screamed,
"please God no!" I may have been a little over dramatic.
But it was too late, not even God could stop this crack, not even Steve Jobs,
my phone was done.
And then my night was ruined.
Until Chris bought me a dipped cone at DQ, then I cheered up a little.
Now here's the difference between Chris and I.
He also cracked his screen, roughly two or three months ago.
But to him, it is what it is.
He just goes on about his life like it's no big deal.
(which perhaps it isn't...)
But that's just not how I roll.
Granted, he doesn't creep nearly to the extent I do on my phone,
via Facebook, Twitter, Instagram ext.
I could barely see anyone's new photos of alcohol or food last night on Instagram
without getting a glass sliver!
That just can't happen.
Point being, I had to make this right, and make it right fast.
Because I'm a dweller.
I'm the type who two weeks later would still be saying,
"I still can't believe I cracked my screen!"
So I'm happy to report less than 12 hours later, my phone has a brand new screen again.
And Chris's does too now.
Thanks Chicago iphone-fixer store.
And would you look at that dapper dog model on both of our phones?
Adorable.
That might have been one of my more pointless posts.
And I write a lot of stupid shit, so I apologize if that was a complete waste of your two minutes.
I just needed to get it off my chest.
It's off.
One of those days when you have to pull a tick out of your dog's ear
only to realize you "left the head in."
(don't worry, Chris got the little sucker later.)
And thanks for all of the tick advice by the way,
wonder if that makes all of us rednecks that we not only get ticks,
we all know the tricks to get rid of them... you might be a redneck if...
you still quote that douche Larry the Cable Guy.
Anyway,
One of those days when you make barbecue chicken and the barbecue sauce bottle
farts all over your white shirt.
So why not just top the day off with a broken iPhone?
Sounds good to me.
Cracking your phone screen is the worst feeling ever.
(when it comes to petty, superficial, feelings I mean.)
I should know. This is my fifth screen I've cracked.
Last night when it happened, I literally fell to my knees in anguish.
This was all going on outside of our house, so naturally people stopped to stare,
and naturally Chris got embarrassed and told me to get up from the ground.
We were on our way to our beach volleyball game,
which we didn't make it to on account of the fact Harlow was going bat shit crazy inside and wouldn't stop barking,
and because I had just cracked my phone.
It was tucked inside the sweatshirt I was bringing, which in hindsight,
probably wasn't necessary to bring given it was 80 degrees outside...
And as soon as it fell smack onto the ground, I screamed,
"please God no!" I may have been a little over dramatic.
But it was too late, not even God could stop this crack, not even Steve Jobs,
my phone was done.
And then my night was ruined.
Until Chris bought me a dipped cone at DQ, then I cheered up a little.
Now here's the difference between Chris and I.
He also cracked his screen, roughly two or three months ago.
But to him, it is what it is.
He just goes on about his life like it's no big deal.
(which perhaps it isn't...)
But that's just not how I roll.
Granted, he doesn't creep nearly to the extent I do on my phone,
via Facebook, Twitter, Instagram ext.
I could barely see anyone's new photos of alcohol or food last night on Instagram
without getting a glass sliver!
That just can't happen.
Point being, I had to make this right, and make it right fast.
Because I'm a dweller.
I'm the type who two weeks later would still be saying,
"I still can't believe I cracked my screen!"
So I'm happy to report less than 12 hours later, my phone has a brand new screen again.
And Chris's does too now.
Thanks Chicago iphone-fixer store.
Adorable.
That might have been one of my more pointless posts.
And I write a lot of stupid shit, so I apologize if that was a complete waste of your two minutes.
I just needed to get it off my chest.
It's off.
