The house is quiet. Too quiet. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Something is amiss. I flick on the kitchen light. It seems dim.

I make my way to the dining room. That's when I notice it's missing. The Roomba is not in its docking bay. :: cue dramatic music ( Read more... )

Now that I'm in my own space, I've gotten a bit obsessive about keeping it tidy. It soothes me to come home to an apartment that is in order. Maybe it's just reflex, a counterbalance against all the chaos life's been throwing at me over the last couple years. Maybe it's just the newness of it all, and trying to hold on to that. Whatever it is, I'm ( Read more... )