I really don’t mind washing my own clothes. For one, they are saved from the horrible smell of the fabric conditioner used by the laundromat. I mean, who would want to smell like Downy all day? Secondly, I know exactly what my sister is capable of doing when forced to wash my laundry. I’d take the dirty clothes over dishwashing any given day. So to make the story short, I was doing my clothes, trying to cheer myself up with such non-sense like thinking how nice those undies were now on the owner, how brushing the pants took the part of the DB back in the gym, when my hand hit something hard. It was not unlike some sense of foreboding, with that disturbing feeling of finding something that you really don’t want to find. Lo and behold, there it was, sandwiched between the white undershirts, my Ibook charger was swimming wet – bare as a fish.

I tried drying it up, (almost baked it in the oven) hoping against hope that it would still power up my baby. With bated breath, I plugged everything later on and to my relief, the green light from the gadget sparked to life, turned to orange – which meant it was charging the laptop. Pleased with myself, I scooped the Ibook, smiled a relieved wide grin and… I froze, then jolted because the darn thing mildly electrocuted my hands. I stared, in horror, as the orange light flickered like some form of SOS signal and for a brief instant, I had a vision of an Ibook exploding all over my face. Thankfully it did not.

But the light died and I know for a fact that the charger was beyond redemption. I am yet to find out if there was some effect on the laptop but its battery is currently exhausted. Apple stuffs are incredibly pricey and a friend recommended this Longbeard character in Philmug who sells them below the market price. Tsk. Otherwise, I am 4.5k poorer. T.T