"tomorrow will go on much as before. i'll lose the keys right after you lock the door."

The title comes from a favorite song of mine, a cheesy little big-band number by Linda Eder in which she sings about how she has such bad luck in life then meets a guy who has equally bad luck. Then of course, they live lyrically ever after. The line above describes me, to a "t". Case and point:

Yesterday I rushed out of my office, pulling off my heels as I went and donning flip flops in preparation for a downtown rush hour trudge to an appointment. Right after that I headed back uptown (MTA made money off me) to my new apartment to drop of my lease application and proof of employment. I then crossed town to my apartment, got home around 9 pm, fashioned a dinner table out of the coffee table and end table (since my roommate moved out on Saturday and took our living room furniture) and settled down with the DVR. During a commercial I reached for my cell phone, and discovered I couldn't find it. It wasn't in my bag, on my bed, or any other surfaces in the house.

Crap.

Horrifying images of my little black phone sitting on some bright orange subway seat somewhere in the city, flashed before my eyes. Since I was the only one home (my other roommate rarely makes appearances) and do not have a landline, I had absolutely no telephone capabilities whatsoever, so calling my phone was out of the question. Alexander Graham Bell would be very disappointed in me, I'm sure.

So I went to the internet for answers and saw that my brother was signed onto his G-Mail account. I promptly "G-chated" him (as I like to call it) and asked him to call my phone. He ended up having a nice conversation with my soon-to-be roommate who informed him I left the phone and my day planner on her couch. She told him to tell me to e-mail her. So, I did and asked her to bring it to work with her today. I would come get it.

This morning I left work 30 mins after I arrived and spent my "lunch break" traveling to her Chelsea office from Midtown in search of my lost lifeline. So now I can "phone a friend" and quietly and silently obsess over whether the nice guy I had coffee with on Saturday is going to call me in true modern woman fashion. All is right with the world. The balance is restored.

Today, when I got out of the office and started to cross the street, I reached for my IPOD only to discover I left my headphones at my desk.

I'm going to make some man very, very frustrated some day.