Rather panicking at the moment over my handphone which refuses to recharge for some reason only known to itself. The bit that holds the wire that connects to the electricity supply no longer accepts the wire. Odd how gadgets decide to be so temperamental.
And odd how dependent we become upon those gadgets. I'm not remotely addicted to the phone, by the way. But it's become strangely integral to my work in terms of the number of urgent communications it delivers. And there are several on-line systems - email, banking - that I can't get into unless I get one of those numbers through it.
Progress, eh?
Postscript: It turns out that the phone's refusal to charge came as a result of all the gunk from my pocket that had somehow secreted itself over time in the bit at the bottom (of the phone, not my pocket) into which the charger thingy went. So I won't be suing Apple after all. My IT consultant (Fifi, unpaid) solved the problem, which was good, but seemed to find the whole situation amusing, as did her Mak Ndak, my Missus. Personally I can't see the humour in this at all, but then I was the one suffering the mental strain of it all.
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