I've rocked the iPhone since 2009. I put off getting one for a few years, because I am never really the type to rush out and buy the newest gadget on the shelves. However, since buying one and becoming an iPhoner, I can't imagine having a different phone, as materialistic as that may sound.
I've had relatively good luck with iPhones. I know so many people who've shattered multiple screens, spilled something on their phones, lost their phones, or gotten them stolen not once but multiple times. I always felt pretty proud that a scatter-brain like myself managed to dodge a lot of iPhone killing bullets! (Okay, there was one time where my iPhone fell into the toilet and may or may not have stayed there for like thirty minutes before I realized it. One time!)
That is, until this week, when my pretty and not even a year old iPhone 5 went from perfect to this in a split second launch from my waistband:
Not having access to a cell phone is not an option for me, being that I need to be accessible for work, and I'm 33 weeks pregnant. So off to the AT&T store we found ourselves, and $150 later (I'm really in baby mode, because I all I kept thinking was how many different baby items we still need that I could have bought with that), I was the reluctant owner of a brand-new iPhone C in white.
Reluctant because I just wanted to keep my own damn phone! I didn't want to spend the money on a new phone I don't even really like the look of (no offense, but the 5C looks like a toy)! I didn't want to spend the money on a phone at all when we have so many other purchases I'd rather be making! I didn't want to deal with this!
Before heading down the road of a full-blown meltdown about the phone situation, my sweet and much more level-headed and easy-going Handsome Husband reminded me that shit happens, and that it's not the end of the world.
And then I remembered what a #firstworldproblem my iPhone catastrophe was, and how lucky I am to have a man who can remind me of that.