Saturday night the moon was coming up and it was huge and bright and blazing orange. Luke brought the telescope out so we could see the moon’s landscape and craters, and alien lifeforms and whatever. It’s amazing to see the craters on the moon and think about how far away it is and how incredible tiny you really are.
I thought it would be neat to see if I could take a picture with my camera through the lens of the telescope. I went in to the kitchen to get my camera off the counter and as I picked it up, the wrist strap caught on a book that was on the counter and the camera went flying out of my hands. I tried to catch it, but it hit the floor instead. I really didn’t think much of it. First, the floor is laminate, it’s forgiving and not that hard. Secondly, I drop everything. I guarantee I’ve dropped this camera before. Once, I dropped my old camera on the asphalt driveway at our old house. It bounced and the case bent. But it still worked!
I picked up my pretty pink camera off the floor, went out and tried to take a picture of the moon’s craters. I couldn’t really focus through the lens and blamed the telescope lens, so I scrapped the idea and sat back down to watch the awesome moon show. Then I wanted to look at the pictures that were on my camera already so I turned it on and looked at the display and saw the heartbreaking blurry lines that are now my camera display.
I think I broke my camera. It makes me want to cry just admitting that. My camera is an extension of my arm! I take pictures every day. I can’t live without a camera. I plugged the charger in for my old Canon on Saturday night so I could take pictures with that one if I needed to, but the batteries for the Canon are weird and worn out and don’t hold a charge for more than an hour. I’m so sad. I’m so mad at myself. I haven’t even had my new camera for a year! I really, really hate myself.