The Day GK Told Her Kindle To Go Play in the Microwave

So. I often jokingly threaten technological devices (it amuses me), but today my Kindle-destructive fantasies were detailed enough to include how I'd explain to my boss that I'd "accidentally" dropped the Kindle onto the tracks and let a speeding B train crush it/put it in the path of a Central Park carriage/handed it to an especially feisty squirrel/spilled my coffee into its few tiny, unsealed parts/found the one puddle left in summer-steamed Manhattan--and dropped it in/left it in with my laundry--but hey, it's clean!/dropped it in the crack between the elevator car and the elevator shaft/decided that if it was going to freeze, it might as well live in the freezer and/or told it to go play in the microwave.

Why all the violence, GK?

Well. This is the second time it's made a manuscript I'd been editing--this one for days and days, with at least thirty notes that I could never remember, with notes that I promised my client TODAY, and today promises (like all days) to be quite busy without the added task of re-reading and re-assembling line-edit suggestions--DISAPPEAR. Note that there are still 27 pages of other manuscripts, safe and sound that, for all I care, can go POOF into the Kindle universe. (Yes, GK's breaking out the all-caps. You can tell this is bad.) But NO. It had to eat the ONE MANUSCRIPT I need today.

And "the Kindle ate my homework"--it just sounds, well...

Incidentally, though it's supposed to cycle through about twenty images of famous writers and/or birds, my Kindle seems stuck on a picture of Ralph Ellison, looking far too amused--in fact, I can't help but imagine that he's laughing at me for trusting the Kindle to not turn days of work into Invisible Manuscript.

Breathe, GK.

So. It's okay. Much to my relief, I found the work again. Should this ever happen to you--if your work and notes seemingly disappear--I was able to find it again by beginning to type an unusual word in the manuscript and going to Search or Find or whatever it is. After it froze a few moments, I tried it again, and it worked--magically reappeared in the list.

But: GRRRR.

If you had a frustrating device (such as, say, a Kindle) that you could replace for free, what would you do to it? Here's some inspiration (though the soundtrack, fair warning, is not kid or office appropriate):