Incidentally, I am a putz.
For the first time in my life, I lost a bag.
I know why it happened, too. I was heavy in thought, my mind occupied by my new job.
I was at lunch, at Two Boots on Bleecker, and I left my backpack hung on the back of the chair. When I remembered this four or five hours later, it was gone.
In it: my perscriptions sunglasses (obnoxiously expensive, not to mention awesome,) my iPod, my asthma inhaler, one or two CDs that I’d just bought, a copy of “The Devil in the White City,” which I was greatly enjoying. (It wasn’t even my copy, I borrowed it from my mom.)
I’m really, really annoyed with myself. Next thing you know I’ll be leaving my cell phone in a cab.
