I am far too attached to my mechanical li'l monsters.
By that I mostly mean my cellphone. Upon possessing a phone, within a week it becomes an extension of my soul. Losing one is among my more traumatic life experiences. Which only goes to show what a sheltered city-slicker brat I am.
But it's OK. I have no trouble with admitting I'm pathetic. What I do have trouble with is dropping my cellphone on a wet toilet floor.
Sure, it's not a gross toilet or anything. But it IS a public domain. Y'know, a surface people tread on with their shoes. And it's wet, which makes it worse for reasons I don't care to explain - psychologically, wet is icky. (That's how the city slicker brain works; deal with it.)
And I've dropped on that surface something I have to press to my goddamn face occasionally. Although thanks gods I text more than I talk. But still...
Just dropping it is already bad enough. I don't take lightly things like damage to extensions of my soul. Even if it is a pretty crappy soul to begin with.
Ah well. Good thing my period was over a week ago. I'd never be able to handle this coolly on a hormone-infested brain. Heads would fucking roll. As it is, heads will merely turn at my loud, (mostly) unwarranted swearing.
~ ~ ~
Wrath is not a sin, but a natural impulse that needs rightful release*.
Serpent 5:10
*Preferably upon inanimate objects.
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