I had been planning my roadtrip to Toronto for a few weeks— visiting my dad for Father’s Day (I hadn’t seen him in 6 months) and meeting my boyfriend’s daughter for the first time. the day before I was leaving, I was busy multi-tasking— my new roommate had just moved in, I had a million errands to run, 275 emails to respond to, 5 conference calls to handle, go to the gym and pack for my weekend. I can do this, I thought. I woke up early, got everything done and packed. I asked my boyfriend to zip up my red suitcase and bring it with him when he picked me up later that afternoon from my client. I had everything in there- all my clothes, gifts, column notes and ideas to work on over the weekend, my iPhone charger…. everything-you get the point. My whole world was in there. The weekend had to be perfect and I had taken all precautions to make sure I had planned well. After a long work day, we make the drive to Toronto. We get to his place around midnight, pour some wine and relax. I had to be up in 5 hours for client meetings and then lunch with my dad. I’m about to change into my PJs when I notice my suitcase is nowhere to be found. I asked him where it was, thinking it was still in the trunk of the car. He replies, “What red suitcase?” My luggage was still in Montreal…FML








