I know, I know. I knew better than that.
Really, I was only trying to put my contacts in. I had just gotten out of bed, and went to put my contacts in so I could make a pot of coffee. I wasn't even going to the bathroom. So don't even ask my five-thirty-on-a-Monday-morning brain how exactly the phone got in the toilet. I haven't the slightest idea.
Here's what I know. The internet is filled with stories of water logged iPhones being resuscitated by drying out in a bag of rice. It worked for my friend Lindsey just last week (and yes, I wish I had learned from her mistake!) My superhero dad is also sending me a magical bag that is supposed to dry out wet cell phones. So, I'm holding on to hope that my sweet iPhone will be saved.
In the meantime, I feel
Maybe this is a good thing. (Maybe I'm just trying to prepare myself for the chance that it isn't saved by the rice and the magic bag). When I got home from work, I miraculously cleaned the bathroom--something I usually save for a day off--instead of playing a few hundred rounds of Temple Run.
While I'm open to the idea that being disconnected isn't so terribly terrible, and maybe God is showing me something here, I'd still appreciate you sending warm, dry thoughts in the direction of my phone!