What a peaceful morning.
I woke up from a deeper sleep than my usual “slight dozing,” backwards spooning this the guy I call my boyfriend, the sun gently shining on my face, only the smallest scent of sweat, and *wipes face* hey! No drool!
“How’s your phone?”
Oh, yeah. Shit.
There was the usual hesitant anticipation as I pulled my urine-scented phone from the bag of rice in which it had been resting all night.
I hold down the button. Nothing. Fuck.
“Try charging it.”
Good plan. I put it on the charger and wait. Nothing. Fuck.
“Can’t you just use your mac for a bit?”
I broke my mac charger last week. Fuck.
“Do you need money?”
I’m a strong, independent woman. I’m a strong, independent woman, I’m a strong, independent woman. “No.” Fuck.
*** Later that morning***
“Hi, I’d like to buy a new charger for my mac, please.”
“That’ll be $84.95.”