The Case of the Vanishing Phone Charger
We’ve all been there. That moment of sheer panic when you reach for your phone charger, only to find… nothing. It’s like they have the ability to teleport, these little guys. One minute they’re basking in the warm glow of your bedside lamp, the next they’ve vanished into the abyss, probably hanging out with lost socks and that other earring.
Just last week, I swear I spent a solid hour scouring my apartment for my elusive charger. I checked under the couch cushions, behind the TV stand (where they seem to congregate), even inside the refrigerator (hey, stranger things have happened!). Finally, defeated and with my phone flashing a pathetic 1% battery life, I slumped onto the couch. And what did my weary eyes spy nestled comfortably between two cushions? You guessed it – the missing charger! It was smirking, I swear.
Autocorrect, we have a complicated relationship. I appreciate your attempts to save me from typos and grammatical blunders, I really do. But sometimes, your “help” just makes things worse. Much worse.
Take, for instance, the time I was trying to send a heartfelt message to my friend who was going through a tough time. I carefully crafted a message of support, ending with a sincere “I’m here for you.” Or at least, that’s what I meant to say. Autocorrect, in its infinite wisdom, decided that “I’m here for your duck” was a much more appropriate sentiment.