They said I couldn’t do it, so I proved them wrong. But I don’t know why.
They said it couldn’t be done. My dad and wife. They watched a Youtube video with me about how to replace the screen on an iPhone SE. The directions were ridiculous: tiny screws and difficult to reach circuit board plugs; removing and reattaching home buttons and selfie cams. If I was alone I would have said f’ck this and paid the $80 for a professional to fix it. But I wasn’t. They were there with me saying that it couldn’t be done.
I’m an ENTP. Someone saying that something can’t be done is a glaring and unavoidable invitation for me to do it. It’s just the way I’m programed.
So I exhaled big and dug out my electronics repair kit and my iPhone 5s. The SE and 5s have the same screen, and while the 5s still functions well finding a replacement screen that could be mailed to me on time was futile. I would ruin one iPhone to save another.
I began unscrewing.
I stripped my screwdriver and had to order a replacement.
… One day wait …
… Story cut short …
I did it. I fixed the f’cking thing. Crotch chop. Yeah.
Proved those f’ckers wrong …
But it was way more challenging than what it was worth and while the feeling of victory was sweet I ruined a perfectly good phone and only saved $80.
But just when I was about to let it fully sink in how dumb what I just did was, my wife snuck up behind me and said, “I didn’t think you could do it. You’re really sexy when you fix stuff.”
That feeling is what we really live for.
The repair video: