I left the apartment at a run today. I had lost track of the time and already missed the early bus, and if I didn't hurry, I would miss the late one too. I clicked the eject button on iTunes to "safely remove" my iPod. It was taking much longer than normal, so I sighed and ripped it out of the computer. I never ever do this, but I figured it would be okay just this once.

I ran up 27th and across Hennepin, leaping onto the 6. I settled in and unzipped my backpack, ready to listen to some Van Halen and re-organize the haphazard folders and papers. To my dismay, the screen was still lit.

DO NOT DISCONNECT.

...I'm pretty sure the iPod was disconnected from my laptop when it was on 25th and Hennipen, zooming towards downtown Minneapolis. My father's voice echoed in my head, telling me to hold the center button for twenty seconds to reset the iPod. I pressed the button and sucked in my breath, holding them both for about thirty seconds. No response from the device, burning sensation in my chest.

Maybe it was the play button, I thought. I tried it, to no avail. I held them simultaneously, I held the menu button. I wasn't sure if my lungs could withstand another button-pushing trial-and-error, and thankfully I reached 9th street within moments of my frustration's escalation to a near-murderous rage. I decided that I'd figure it out in the lab and ran up the sixty-five (yes, I count) steps to the fourth floor, dashing into art lab. I pulled out my sketch pad, my 4H pencils, my big white eraser, and my iPod. It was still lit.

DO NOT DISCONNECT.

It's lucky that my professor loves the Beastie Boys. It's unlucky that the speaker on my side of the room was shot. I found it hard to concentrate without my music, especially with Ill Communication crackling in and out, but I managed to pull seven sketches out of my ass before class was over.

Two and a half hours later, I found myself in the library -- er, "Student Resource Center" -- trying to sketch something else. (I'm doing a lot of drawing for school... who knew?) I was creatively banging my head against a brick wall, and the silence was deafening. I pulled out my iPod and hoped for the best.

DO NOT DISCONNECT.

It actually made me angry. I wasn't bummed, I wasn't disappointed, I was angry. What the fuck, iPod (or iTunes, whichever was to blame)? Don't you realize I came up with a fantastic idea to sketch Bach's "Toccata and Fugue" in a line? How can I sketch "Toccata and Fugue" when I can't fucking listen to "Toccata and Fugue" at all? That's a little difficult, isn't it, iPod/Tunes? You creatively-hindering sons of bitches.

I finally came to my last assigned sketch and wrote a letter to Steve Jobs.

Dear Steve Jobs,
You suck. How can I disconnect an iPod from a computer that is two miles away? I CAN'T. When you figure out how to make that happen, I'd love to see it, but for now, I'd really just like to finish my sketches and listen to my iPod. "Toccata and Fugue," bitch.
Sincerely yours,
Bitter Anne

I ended up walking about twelve blocks after school without my iPod and really, it was terrible. I had to listen to this woman on her cell phone ramble on and on, "omg omg omg lol idk my bff jill." I didn't want to hear her shit, I wanted to hear Van Halen.

When I got home, it had finally run out of batteries. I plugged it into the computer and held my breath one final time... and to my delight, it began to glow back to life (and is now safely charging under my watchful eye).

I amended my letter to Steve Jobs, vowing to never again remove a USB Mass Storage Device without properly disconnecting it first, and apologizing for my tone. And for calling him a bitch.


PS: If you haven't heard, I got a ridiculously awesome job. I start tomorrow night.
Also, if you know my brother, be sure to congratulate him -- he's employee of the month.