Get @ HAT through The Rumor

On Saturday, instead of doing the 10 things on my TO DO list, which all have similar impending deadlines, I decided to upgrade my Sprint phone. Needless to say, it is an extravagance. Was my other phone working properly? Yes. Did I recently drop it? No. Was it malfunctioning? No. Was it possible for the one or two friends that I have remaining still contact me through said hand-held device? Yes. Could I have used the said mobile device for another 2 years without having any technical problems. Yes. Would I have saved $50 bucks if I'd just kept the old one? Yes.

Nevertheless, I had to do it. The ridiculous retail price is $279.99. What with the instant savings that I qualified for (being the faithful, loyal 2-year customer that I am), and the mail-in rebate, I paid $108. Which isn't bad, considering I didn't need the silly phone. It just looks great. GPS. Bluetooth. Video. Camera. Music. And the pretense of me being "cool." (I'm vaguely aware that by my saying so, any chance of me being cool just flew out the window. Bear with me please.) It's black (but comes in white as well), and slides out sideways to reveal and Qwerty keyboard. Small enough to fit into the palm of my hands, it features a 1.3 megapixel camera and a videocamera, and supposedly also plays music. I have no idea, b/c I haven't the faintest idea the full capacity of this wonderful device. I am now married to my phone, with the single exception of taking it into the bathroom.

Tempted as I am to blame it on the disembodied "evil voice" that persuaded me to purchase The Rumor, I need to take full responsibility for the decision to buy this phone (which I've not had a chance to use except to call my parents, and, Paco). I am the only person to blame for it existing in my world as of Saturday. I have no one to blame or thank. Naturally.

So, this morning, the homily was directed right at me, and The Rumor. As we pass through the first Sunday in Lent, I am reminded that the One much greater than I was able to give up so much in order to attain the Bread of Life, and here I am clutching my Rumor. Not donating to charity (done last week -- does that count?). Not caring for the elderly. Not feeding the hungry. Not clothing the poor. This, sadly, then, was my very first act of Lent -- to shamelessly, heedlessly, ridiculously, unreservedly buy a brand new product of which I have no need.

Help me, Lord, but I do still love it.