My Roommate the Robot

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I live alone. Except for my roommate the robot.  Her name is Roomba. The manufacturers named her.
A gift from my mom who worried I might not clean my apartment, Roomba cleans it for me. All I need to do is push a button, and she takes care of the rest.

Most of the time, Roomba is the rockstar I show off when friends come to visit. Initially, we got off to a bumpy start. I trusted her to clean my apartment when I was in the other room. When I returned, she was hard at work, hiding under a table cleaning the floorboards or so I thought.

I continued with my evening routine, and checked my email. But, when I went to log-in,  the internet gave me an error message. Strange, I wondered why It was no longer working. Then, it occurred to me Roomba might be to blame. I walked over to my wireless router, and sure enough it was not in its normal location. I found the router  underneath the bed with the wires wrapped around each of the legs of the bed, and Roomba in between.

I stopped Roomba, scolded her, and untangled the wires to reset the router. A few minutes later, my internet was working again as Roomba switched to off.

That day, I learned even though my roommate was a robot, she had her flaws just like any human roommate might.

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