If you see my keys, please let me know.

I know they're in the apartment somewhere, because I got in last night. Then I grabbed the lap top out of the living room, plugged into an outlet in the bedroom and stayed up online until 2 in the freaking morning, writing chatting, and obsessively watching You Tube clips of Top Gear.

This morning, no idea of where the keys are, and I was frantically searching for them while hubby was trying to settle in and get ready to sleep. Not a good combo. I never did find them and the solution to that isn't making him happy at all.

I'm taking next week off as a "hang around the City and take care of shit" week. Obviously I need to make a new pair of back-up keys as I can't find those either.

In the immortal words of Katherine Hepburn in The Philadelphia Story, I am such an unholy mess of a girl.