I managed to remember my lunch today (sometimes a rare occurance), but forgot my entire backpack, which contains my current reading book (A Tree Grows in Brooklyn), my current writing books (journal, full sized notebook, the little brain dump notebook, and assorted index cards), and my box o' pencils.
I feel like I'm missing an arm. And what am I gonna do during lunch??
If I lived in "the cloud," I wouldn't hafta be in mourning.