Likely Normal

We live in the most technologically advanced era in human history—where our phones can track our steps, our sleep, and even our location at all times. And yet, we still spend approximately 37% of our adult lives frantically patting ourselves down like human frisk machines while muttering, “Where the hell is my phone?” only to discover it’s been in our back pocket this whole time.

It’s a special kind of humiliation when you’ve turned the house upside down—checking under couch cushions, inside the fridge (don’t ask), and even that one junk drawer that eats everything—only to finally use “Find My Phone” and hear the telltale ding coming from… your own hand. Or worse, your other pocket. At this point, we should just accept that our brains have a built-in “device invisibility cloak” that activates the moment we stop physically holding something.

And phones are just the beginning. The modern human spends an absurd amount of time playing a real-life game of “Hot/Cold” with their own belongings:

• Wireless earbuds that vanish into another dimension approximately 0.2 seconds after you set them down. (Spoiler: They’re in the laundry basket, already halfway through a spin cycle.)
• TV remotes that teleport to a parallel universe whenever you need them, only to reappear in the most nonsensical places (why is it in the pantry?).
• Car keys that defy physics by disappearing between the couch and the wall, despite you literally just had them.

The sheer panic that sets in when we can’t find something we were just holding can be hilarious. You’d think we were being hunted by a predator, not looking for an object that’s probably within arm’s reach. Our ancestors had to track animals for survival—we just have to track our AirPods before the dog does.

Maybe we’re all just permanently distracted. Maybe our devices are alive and messing with us. Or maybe we’re just doomed to spend the rest of our lives wandering in circles, slapping our own thighs like bongo drums, whispering “keys, keys, keys” like a malfunctioning robot.

Either way, the next time you’re crawling around on the floor at 2 a.m. looking for your phone, just know—you’re not alone. We’re all out here, pinging our lives away, one “Oh, it was in my hand the whole time” moment at a time.