I think everyone in the profession has variations of these.

(Well, probably everyone has job-specific nightmares of this sort.)

But this one is real.

I lost my computer power cord/adapter.

That means my computer has only a few minutes of life left. And no, I’m not spending it on this blog entry, though that certainly would make for better drama. I’m using someone else’s computer.

But later on in the day, and Sunday, I won’t have access to this computer and will need to have my own. If I can get the cord/adapter.

Here is what happened.

I was at the velodrome for BMX. I was in some hurry to leave, as I often am, because of the buses. I’ve written about the buses, and how missing one can screw up your whole day.

So, I get over to the Water Cube — where Phelps did all his winning — and sync swimming is going on there. (Add one more sport to the list of those I’d never seen in person, till this Olympics, with taekwondo, judo and shooting) The place is quite empty, especially in what is known as the “press tribune.” And I climb into the area where TV guys would, if they were there, and set down my bag … and go back out of the arena to get something from the media workroom. Some water, actually.

I come back, and one of those officious ushers (the place has lots of them), wants to know if I “intend to sit here.” And I said, “Yes, I intend to.” And she says (and she is not Chinese, by the way, but an American or Canadian, maybe), “Can I ask you to move up higher?”

And I say, “You can ask me, but I’m not …” and I decide I’m not going up into the rafters. I’ll go watch it in the workroom. So I grab my bag — which is jammed with stuff at all times, and about 10-15 pounds — and stalk down to the press workroom.

Where I begin to unload. Computer comes out. Now I need the power cord/adapter. Digging around. Don’t see it. Hmm.

Lots of stuff though. (This is all taking seconds) But … I … don’t … see … it. Hmmm. Now I’m worried.

I move all the media guides. I move my notebook. I move the bag holding my little camera. Nothing. Now I’m truly alarmed.

I pull out everything of any size in the bag. The cord/adapter isn’t there.

Now I have problems. My first best hope is that I pulled it out during that moment up in the sync swim press tribune and left it behind when I was stalking off. Sort of instant karma for being short with the officious usher.

So I’m up in the stands, going through row after row of seats, because they’re all empty and I have a fairly good idea where I was sitting, but not a certain one … and nothing. A kid usher comes over and asks me if he can help. I tell him I lost my cord. He thinks I’m suggesting someone took it. “That would not happen,” he says. I say, “No, I LOST it. I may have left it here somewhere.”

I ask him where items would go if someone pick them up. Is there a “lost and found” area for media stuff?

He doesn’t understand the question. I give up. It’s gone.

First, I need to write a story. I power up the computer, and it claims to have 49 minutes left of battery.

I transcribe quotes from the interviews I’ve just done with a synchronized swimmer and a coach, and I begin banging out a story. I mean, rushing. And I’ve got an email in the “send” field for someone who is here in Beijing, in case I have to send before I’m done, and my computer dies … so I can fetch it from that person’s e-mail.

But I’m done, basically, 95 percent done, when the warning message pops up to “go to outside power or save your work because machine will shut down” or whatever it is.

Instead, I send the story … and shut it down.

So, I’m through Friday, anyway. But I’ve got two more days.

I retrace my steps. I had set my bag down in the Main Press Center, right next to where another American, Tom Archdeacon, is sitting and ask if he’s seen a power cord. Nope, he hasn’t.

Next stop, the “technical help desk.” A friendly and genuinely (it seems to me) interested English-competent young woman (perhaps 22?) listens to my issues. She offers 1) that they may have a cord/adapter I can borrow till the end of the Games and 2) I tell her I believe it most likely I left the cord at the cycling venue.

I make a map of the venue work room, and show her where I was sitting. I write down my name and phone number and type of computer and what the adapter looks like — and how it has three prongs, American-style.

She calls the venue … but it’s 6 p.m., and there’s no one there. She gives me the press workroom number, and I then spend a night worrying about how I’m going to send the last 3-4 stories out of here.

This morning, I call the velodrome. A kid answers. He can’t answer the question. I need to call Mr. Hu, the venue press manager.

I call Mr. Hu. I explain the situation. I am using my “English for foreigners voice; no contractions, no slang, very precise, stilted, really. I don’t think he understands the “three prongs” thing. But he asks me to wait.

He speaks Chinese in the background. He comes back. “We may have it. Is it for a Dell computer?”

“Yes, I say,” hope returning. “If it has three prongs, that’s it, I’m almost sure.”

He doesn’t get the three prongs thing. But he’s thinking it’s mine. Nobody else has left a cord in the last 24 hours, from what I can tell.

SO, I’m about to take the 45-minute ride BACK to the velodrome, for the sixth time in eight days. or about three more than I anticipated. But it’s worth it to get my cord. So I can 1) avoid having to spend $75 or so to replace it, back home and 2) so I can send a story, and not just work on them.

So, I’m relieved. But I won’t be feeling fully relieved till I have my cord/adapter … and I’m heading for the bus now to find out.

Anyway, we have dreams like. We lose key equipment, or forget it. This one just happened to come true. So I’ll probably be having more of them, even if my journalism career ends when the torch goes out Sunday night.