Today was a day like no other. I lost my car keys right before an important client meeting, I missed project deadlines, every product I'm working on simultaneously combusted, the dog peed on my duvet and sheets and I didn't drink one lick of water.
I decided to [...]

I've carried a matchbook in my car for five years. It's from a bar called the "Good Luck" where, after two martinis, D. and I first kissed. I don't even notice the matchbook anymore, but yesterday I started snapping shots of it and thinking.
Oh, loft living. It's going to be rich with tales. Know how I know? This was posted in the elevator when I came home from work last night: