phone hatred

i'm going to punch my cell phone in the face. i've had it.

it can't hold a charge to save its little life. even on vibrate, the descending beedle-boop announces to anyone in a 50-foot radius that my phone needs to be plugged in. you can hear it over choir rehearsal. and my preschool class.

when i hear the "new voicemail" chirp in the silent aftermath of an apparently-your-house-is-a-black-hole-of-no-reception missed call, obscenities that would embarrass pirates spew from my lips. and scare the dog.

"hey hannah! it's kkkkkkktskkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk the car on the way to the kkkkkkksfsdskkkkkkkkkkkk"

"what? what? hang on, i can't hear you."

"kkkkkkkkkkkk now? is this shhhhhkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkffffffsskkkkkkkkk anything?"

"no, i still... hello? hello? UHHHHHHH you've got to be fu-" as i hang up.