Brave Little Toaster-Leah Noble

My cover slides off and is conveniently placed under me revealing to me the light and atmosphere of my favorite place: math class. I am a calculator. A TI-84 graphing calculator to be specific (never should I be mistaken for those lowlife scientifics or worse, four functions). I find my user often has mixed emotions about me, sometimes praising me for my help on an otherwise impossible math problem or slamming me on the table when I "don't work properly" ( although it's always user error). My day consists of mostly staying in my owner's black hole of a backpack with a "smart phone" who is not nearly as smart as me, despite its many illogical arguments against me. Unfortunately, my arguments with the smart phone always end with it asking, "Who gets used more often?" and we all know the answer to that. Getting pulled out midway through the day though is glorious. I become the only thing that stands between the completion of a task, so I think my hardest and make sure to do just what my user wants, well, as long as they press the right buttons. I am deeply hurt when I know what needs to be done and my user just cannot figure it out and thus abandons the problem. My life is full of shining moments and deep depressions. Sometimes I go days on end without being touched by delicate, young hands or even without getting a glimpse of light. All in all, my life is good, if only I could outsmart that smart phone and become the number one priority in the life of my owner.