Monday, November 17, 2008

I hesitate to even own up to this because, well...'ll understand why once you hear it, but I'm so disgusted with myself for my own stupidity that I feel the need to fess up to my embarrassing moment in the hopes that it will make me think twice before doing something this stupid again. And it's better that I tell the world before Randey does. (He can't wait to run his mouth about it and I can't say as how I blame him.) What'd I do that was so dumb? Well I'll tell 'ya. I stuck my cell phone in my back pocket and then forgot about it. I forgot that I'd put it there because really, who puts their phone in their back pocket???? What 45 year old woman does something like that? Forty-five year old women have purses to hold their cell phones because they know better than to stick stuff in their back pockets. Geez! Not me, though. No sirree. I felt the need to put my phone in my back pocket because I was in too big of a hurry to walk the 20 feet into my bedroom and put the phone in my purse, where it belongs. And then, some time later when I was preparing to leave home, I ran into the bathroom to use the facilities. I was rushing like mad because I was already running 1/2 hour late (nothing went right this morning, don'tcha know!) so I dashed into the bathroom, quickly undid my britches and just as my butt was about to hit the seat, I heard phone hitting the bottom of the toilet. Yeah. Phones tend to slip right out of back pockets when those back pockets are flipped upside down. And, in case you didn't know, phones don't work so well once they've explored the bottom of a toilet either. And while the phone landed in the toilet prior to my actual use of said toilet, it did not lessen the "eeeeewwwww" factor when I had to fish the damn phone out. Although, in retrospect, perhaps I should have just flushed it and saved my hand that brutal scrubbing I was forced to give it because the phone was ruined already. There was no saving it. But...regardless....the deed is done. My phone is ruined, my hand will be forever tainted with the icky-ness of toilet bowl fishing and I'm so mad at myself I could just spit. It was not the best way to start my day. I've ordered a replacement, despite knowing I probably shouldn't even be allowed to own a phone after this little incident. I got me one of these:

I think it's called a VU phone or something like that. The important thing is, it's too big to fit in my back pocket. Who knew that would be the most important feature I'd look for in a cell phone?

I swear, some days, I wonder why I even got out of bed.

Ickily yours,
, the toilet bowl fishing old lady from Texas