One man's ceiling is another man's floor, unless you're camping (I guess). It's been a woolly couple of days at Chez Kenny. I'm hoping this weekend I can finally get some of the thrills out of my system because I just can't stand this much fun too much longer.
No sooner did the phone guy come out to the house and put the telephone, television and The Internet (capitalized because we take it Seriously) back on line after the lightning strike, then the cell phone Patrick gave me to evaluate (= to play with and see if I liked and I did) (Notice the past tense? This is called foreshadowing) spit the bit.
Yesterday instead of starting up when I turned it on, the screen blinked then lit up and almost said its name, except it said only "Droi" then it cycled itself, swapped out screen displays and almost said its name again. Lather, rinse, repeat. It would still be doing it, I imagine, if I hadn't figured out how to take the back off of the phone and remove the battery.
I'm not especially technologically ept (Do NOT arch your brow! It's okay to say I'm inept in matters of technology so why can't I use the opposite?) and figuring out how to get the back off was cause for celebration except for the part where the phone still didn't work (damn details).
As I was looking for a rubber band (don't snicker!) to hold the front and back of the phone together with the battery I flashed on a maxim offered by a colleague who revels in all manner of tools and toys, Max Frisch's "technology is the knack of so arranging the world that we don't have to experience it." And then the sound grew louder for "Attention all planets of the Solar Federation..." Terrific. So much for that quiet weekend.