Every now and again I catch a glimpse of my tablet in harsh, glancing daylight and marvel at how much grime I've deposited on it since last taking time to clean the thing. After flinching at the sight of the mess, I then become intrigued by the kinds of detritus scattered there. A gray, kinky whisker on the upper left side. A short, white nose hair a bit to the right of that. A lot of dust particles, or is all of that flakiness bits of skin I've been shedding. And, of course, the obvious greasy patterns of finger tracks.
I flinch again thinking of what those fingers have been into and up to between cleanings, of both the tablet and my hands alike. But then I once again become intrigued by the patterns lively finger action have laid down on the screen and I begin seeing things in the smeariness.
Things like an evil looking, ponity-eared dude with bulbous nose wearing sunglasses in the upper righthand quadrant. Spooky.
And what the hell was I tap-tap-tapping at so insistently in the lower righthand quadrant? No telling.
Scanning the patterns for something recognizable I see the long, horizontal sweeping smear along the upper half of the screen and know exactly what caused that distinctive mark. It's from moving the Garageband playhead thumb back and forth while working on a new tune.
Then I see a bug-eyed Slimer from Ghostbusters, with mouth agape near center screen and decide I've seen enough. Time to clean the damn tablet.