Pixies that steal my possessions when I'm not looking

I’m trying to distract myself from the knowledge that there is a still a pile of stuff waiting to be moved in the corner of my old apartment in the East Village to my storage container in Chelsea. I’ve already shifted my day to day essentials, so the odds and sods there don’t seem to have any urgency about being moved, especially now that I’ve found my missing software and cheque and my beloved leather jacket turned up at CA’s lovely West Village place where I have occasionally been working during the day whilst she’s been in London. (How could I have left without wearing it? Am fool.) Although I would very much like to know where the hell my camera cable is.

Somehow I always thought that once I was a grown up I’d stop misplacing things and my life would come together. Sadly that doesn’t seem to be the case. Last week I managed to leave my Blackberry at JM’s and then, when I returned to collect it, managed to leave it behind again. Moron.