Why I shouldn't have nice things.

I have been the proud owner of a cell phone since the age of 14.  About 7 years.  In that time, I have never lost any phone for more than 10 minutes before finding it in my pants pocket, where I would have stumbled upon it eventually anyway.

Until the end of January abouts, when it fell out of my pocket in CNS.  "A very nice girl named Amy" found it and called my mom, who then emailed me so that I could contact Amy and be reunited with celly.  Happy ending.  Until about two weeks later, when I left work around 8pm, almost certainly leaving my phone on the bed before heading to the shower.  Yet when I came back, no phone was in sight (nor in sound, as I had left it on silent).  Did it fling out of my pocket behind my dresser as I undressed?  Did it never even make its way home, falling out of my pocket as I quickened the pace to avoid the shady man on my walk from Jimmy John's?  We may never know.  I suffered through a phoneless week, then bought the most delicate of go-phones that doesn't even have a front display.

So for about 2 hours I've been getting ready to go to Atlanta tomorrow.  I was downstairs tidying up in general and preparing rice (which I hear makes a good substitute for cereal with a little bit o sugar), then grabbed a few odds and ends to bring upstairs.  Put my jacket, shoes, water bottle away, turned to grab my hair dryer, comb, and phone, and...there was no phone.  W.  T.  F.  I spent a good half hour looking EVERYWHERE for it, Facebook messaging people to call me, because of course no one was on AIM, and in general going crazy and freaking out because I wouldn't have a phone in Atlanta.  And this time it was worse because I absolutely positively knew that it was somewhere in the house.

I had just resigned myself to waiting for someone to call, and sat down to write a blog entitled "Epicest Fail Ever", when what's that???  Lovely bells from my closet!  Where in my closet?  My shoe.  My fucking shoe.  My phone dropped into my shoe as I carried the armful of straggling goods upstairs.  Who loses their phone in a shoe?  This seriously just pisses me off.

This is probably way more information than anyone will ever care to know, but it really just gets to me, and I need to feel like someone will understand how unbelievably frustrating this is.

Lastly, thank you to my savior, my darling sister AnnaBanann.