No, I didn’t kill that rat. I would not be distraught if I’d killed the rat. I’d be celebrating. No, I think I killed Mr. Kindle.
If you’ve read much of my blog you know that Mr. Kindle and I are close. We go to bed together every night. Since I prefer to sleep alone, after we’re done sharing time together, I put Mr. Kindle on the table close to me. Last night, I enjoyed his services and was starting to doze off. As I put him on the table. I dropped him. Or he slipped. I don’t know, I just know he hit the floor. It didn’t seem that hard and I didn’t even bother to check on him.
This morning I did and he was turned on but the screen is muddled and unreadable. I’ve tried rebooting and that isn’t working. I’ve called 911. Or at least I’m sending a message to Amazon to see if they have a magic solution. If not, I’ll have to see about replacing (sob) my loyal Mr. Kindle.
I’ve already booked my flight in May to New Zealand. Surely Amazon can send me one there. In the meantime, I’ll be carrying a ton of books from Apia this weekend. PC Office has a stash that volunteers read/trade. I can live without TV. I can’t live without books.
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