All the small things

{  Pre-incident  |  May 2013  }

I sometimes find myself getting catastrophically upset / disappointed over small things (also known as: seriously sweating the small stuff).

Like last week. I was walking a few blocks in Soho to drop off a bag of clothes at a thrift store. I had on camel flats with gold accents, hot pink cropped pants, and a gray tee with a hot pink graphic. I also had my hair up in my Scandi braided bun and was sporting an Indian gold ring with a fuchsia ruby and one of my pairs of dangly, probably-too-much-for-work, gold earrings. I tell you this to underscore how cute I felt—until the usually charming cobblestoned Crosby street caused me to lurch awkwardly forward, sending my beloved gleaming Samsung Galaxy 3 shooting out of my pants pocket and tumbling down onto the rocky street.

After swaddling the poor thing and toting it back to the office I examined it thoroughly (post-disinfection, naturally), and lo—after just over a year of ownership, I had my first smattering of screen scratches. At first I thought they were linty bits from my tote bag—that's how airy and light they are, but no. Obnoxious, full-on scratches on my Gorilla Glass. Pretty remarkable that it lasted a year being scratch free, but now my formerly glam phone is looking a little schlumpy. Of course I'm the only one who would ever notice, but that didn't prevent a frenzied, panicky Googling episode to figure out how to remove all those pesky marks without spending a fortune.

See? Totally sweating the small stuff.