I am an idiot.
I am an idiot because last week I left my laptop somewhere between Heathrow and Paddington Station. At which point someone else so kindly adopted it.
To say that I beat myself up as I searched every inch of Heathrow is an understatement.
To say that I was disappointed to have to go back to L.A. early so I could locate my backup drive and get back to work is also an understatement.
To say that I was bitter when Ali and Maya threw me a little wave goodbye and then stayed on another week to enjoy Marks and Spencer, fabulous Indian food, Harrods, and Legoland (Truth: I’m actually happy I missed that little excursion), is the biggest understatement of all.
Naturally, I took my bitterness out on Ali.
“I’m not sure what upsets me more – the fact that you get to stay in London, or the fact that I can’t seem to come up with a reason to blame you for my laptop being stolen.”
Ali: “Well actually, it is my fault your laptop got stolen – because I suggested we take the Heathrow Express. If we’d just taken the London Underground everything would have probably been okay.”
And this? This is why I can overlook the fact that my husband tells me I have fat thighs.