Apparently, I need to stop blaming my problems on drinking, and start blaming them on what's really wrong with me, which is that I am an idiot.
What I'm really trying to say is that I didn't lose my cell phone after all.
See, I had my phone and my keys in my purse, and I was holding the purse backwards, and it's really hard to describe in words, but just trust me that at some point during the night, I came very close to dumping its contents out because I tried to open it from the wrong direction. I remember this very distinctly, because I remember worrying that I had almost dropped my keys out. What I couldn't remember was when or where exactly it happened. But I assumed that that must have been when the phone fell out.
So anyway, I have a file cabinet next to the front door of my apartment (I'm all about the fancy, high-class furnishings), and that's where I throw my keys and shit whenever I walk in the door. And my purse and my keys and my scarf and my gloves were all there, but the phone was nowhere to be found when I checked Saturday morning.
Except it actually was there. Want to know where? Well, the top drawer of the file cabinet was open (because I am terrible and lazy and never bother to shut drawers when I open them*), and last night, I happened to look down into it, and HEY, THERE'S MY FUCKING CELL PHONE nestled in among the electric bills and last year's tax returns. GOD.
And here's an instance where being a slacker actually benefitted me - I still hadn't gotten around to calling the cell phone company to disconnect the phone, so it still works! Of course I am keeping it, what with it being charmingly old-school and all.
*When I was in high school, I took a drama class, and we had to do some sort of exercise that involved miming the opening of cabinets. I got yelled at by the teacher because I opened them but didn't close them. "Do you do that in real life??? No, of course not! You would close them!" "Well, no, actually, I don't close them, because I'm LAZY. BITCH."