this is now where my phone lives
So yesterday I dropped my phone into the wharf out by the Giants ballpark. Bye-bye phone. I was out there having lunch, outside in the intense heat. Everything upset me yesterday: the heat, the fact that I had to be at my job at all, the fact that I couldn’t get caught up on my writing ourselves whole work, and I was cranky and crabby and premenstrual-y and weepy. I had a short conversation with F!, during which I was curt and irritated and then after, I stood up, had my phone in my hand, was near the edge of the water, and I dropped the phone and thought, or no, I had thought before it dropped, it would be just like today for me to drop my phone in the water — and then that’s exactly what happened. Actually, it’s like when I dropped my phone in the sewer grate — I saw the grate, I thought, it would be awful to drop my phone down there and then I did just that.
I watched the phone go, I said, No, no, no but quiet, like I could get it to bounce back to me, but I didn’t want to alert the other people sitting at benches around me, and then it fell into the water and was gone. There were bubbles as the air escaped from between the case and the phone.
