Friday, I leave the office. My bag is full and my bag is heavy. Because I am on-call and obviously the laptop is big and it is heavy. I go and acquire a rubber tree plant, and a few pots and potting soil so as to split up some rather rootbound plantage that I already owned. I get home, I drop the shoulderbag on the desk, and I repot. Then I do some straightening up.
Saturday, I get busy moving bookshelves. For those of you who don't know what a freakish bibliophile I am, there were, in my hallway, 4 side-by-side-by-side Ivar shelves from Ikea, widest shelf available, tallest uprights available, 7 shelves. They were full of hardbacks and trade paperbacks. These are now in the front room. While cleaning it crosses my mind that gee, I don't see my damn laptop. Clean, look, look, clean. Lather, rinse, repeat. that was Saturday, which finally ended with aching me crawling into bed having moved a goodly chunk of the books in the place.
Sunday, I have to USE the damn laptop, as I'm the on-call person this week.
The damn laptop is NOT TO BE FOUND. ANYWHERE.
And so I tweak the hell out of my desktop machine so that it'll talk to the corp. network, then I work. Work finished, I then TEAR the apartment limbfromlimb, looking for the laptop.
By the end of Sunday, I have looked everywhere the laptop could be. Not everywhere that I might have put it, but everywhere that it conceivably could be.
By Sunday evening, I have looked at everything that could contain the laptop.
I have looked everywhere in the damn apartment.
I have, in fact, touched every single thing in the apartment.
No dice. I have lost my laptop. I suck. I fail. I am horrible.
Monday, meet up w/ boss to commute, mention having mislaid the laptop. Get into the office, sit down...
...and there's the laptop, just sitting there.
Motherfucker emanated smugness.
God what a dork I am. :)