Anthropomorphisation

So I bought a roomba. Dylan had one and it was just to awesome to live without. I also bought a banjo and a bookshelf. They will come into play. The Roomba came in yesterday and I ran it for the first time this morning while I was eating breakfast. It ran great, as expected, but my bookshelf is sort of just high enough to for the roomba to wedge itself trying to get under it. So before leaving for work I laid the Banjo case across the edge of the bookshelf so the Roomba could just fly by. Unfortunately I laid the banjo such that it sort of blocked the Roomba's docking station. It's home, if you will. Happily unaware of my poor Roomba's plight I went to work.

When I got home my place was nice and vacuumed. But the Roomba was sitting there, staring forlornly at it's sweet oasis in my desert of carpet, so close yet so far far away. It was dead.

And so now I feel horrible! I keep picturing poor Roomba cheerfully clapping the dust off his hands in a satisfied view of a job well done and heading back for the Roomba equivalent of a "cold-one". After seeing that the way was slightly blocked Roomba just put shoulder to wheel and tried to find another route. After a few minutes of fruitless trying Roomba starts becoming desperate for sweet sweet recharge. So Roomba keeps on trying, each minute of failure bringing the icy hand of death closer. In the end I imagine Roomba lost control and, with fevered brow, raged without effect against his oppressor.

He did die trying, and thats honorable. When I got home the carpet near the docking station, where Roomba lay dead, was turbid from Roomba's repeated attempts.

I know it's just a little robot. But that shit is heart breaking.

The Roomba is charging again.