My Precious

As you may have noticed, I haven't posted a story about moron tax in quite a few weeks.  Frankly, I didn't have anything to report.  For the past few weeks, I had an unusually good run of high self esteem.  I just spent two wonderful weeks on vacation in Switzerland where I did some hard hiking in the Alps.  I managed to lose a little chunk from my belly, I paid all my bills on time, and I hadn't inadvertently exposed my body in any humiliating manner at work.  Victory!

Of course that couldn't last long, much less forever.  Two days ago, I fell afoul of the the oldest and most consistent rule of moron tax:  Anything Expensive Will Get Broken.

This is a picture of my cell phone.  Aside from my television, computer, and car, this is (or, really, was) the most expensive thing that I can call my own.   I had placed it in the external pocket of my backpack when I left for work, and it slid out when I leaned over to tie my shoe in the parking lot.  The phone fell less than 3 feet but hit the concrete at exactly the worst angle.  Now, little bits of glass stick to my face whenever I answer a call, and I worry that I'll cut my finger using a pull-down menu.  Worse yet, I vaguely wonder if one day I'll learn that radiation from broken smartphones are the undisputed cause of a new medical phenomenon known as "face melting." 

Obviously, I need to replace this phone, but for now, I am feeling too low and undeserving.