Somewhere in the middle of 6-hour wait at the immigration office (for which I am generously patting myself in the back for being such a good sport about it), I realized that I saw my cellphone as female, my current and old (in a coma) laptops as male, and my iPod as androgynous.
And, and, just as the Doctor called the TARDIS ‘Sexy’, I feel the urge to call my phone with the same name, despite the word ‘sexy’not having the slightest tinge of red.
Six hours of queueing, you’d think I’d come up with something deeper, more sociological or psychological, to write. Oh brain, how dull(er) you’ve become.
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