A promising omen? Nah, just wishful thinking

I'm sitting in the library this morning, taking advantage of the one hour break to do some homework for my noon class. I pull out my iPod to listen to some music, when a horrible thing happens. My iPod dies. Not as in the battery dies, but the iPod itself does. The screen won't load, and all it shows me is the familiar black screen and apple icon before fading from view forever. On top of that, when I try to reset it, a horrific clicking sound takes over, and then just stops. A tear rolled down my cheek.

This isn't just my mp3 player. This is my constant companion. My road trip warrior, my friend at work that makes time fly by while in the stock room. Just about everywhere I go, the iPod comes with me.

I'm heartbroken. In addition to being broke, and therefore not able to buy another one, this iPod has special meaning to me. I bought it in '05, and the first playlist I ever made was a 68-song collection of the greatest year of my life. And covering it's scratched surface is my White Sox iPod case.

There it is. The sign that the White Sox season is dying.

So I sadly packed it up, resigned to the fact that it was dead. Just like my team. My noon class ended, I went home, and in a last resort, plugged it in to my computer, figuring if the mother ship couldn't save it, nothing could. After about two minutes of the familiar black screen, a miracle happened. It came back from the dead. It was revived. It was breathing again. All 6800+ songs still there.

And then it hit me. It is a sign. The Sox aren't dead. They're alive. They may have been knocked down earlier this week, but they will stand up and fight again.

Could it be? Probably not. I'm on four hours of sleep, loaded on caffeine, and prone to talk to walls at times. So I see omens in the dumbest of places.