I know some of you were unable to sleep because you were so concerned about me not being able to find my phone. Well, you can all rest easy. Here's what happened:
My best friend Elle came over, and she helped me search high and low for my phone. Mr. Darling cleaned the whole house except the bedroom, and Elle and I cleaned the bedroom. Then, Elle showed what a great friend she is by crawling around on the floor with a flashlight and looking under all of our furniture. She found 23 cat toys, but no phone. Then, I climbed up on a chair and checked in our attic/crawl space, because I'd seen this story on Good Morning America and was convinced that there must be a person living up there who had taken my phone. The good news is that nobody was living up there; the bad news is that I didn't find my phone.
Finally, after our house was completely clean from top to bottom, Mr. Darling, Elle and I all gave up, held a memorial service for my dearly departed phone, and decided to watch a movie. Elle and I plopped down on the couch, and Mr. Darling rolled the ottoman over... and then stood in the middle of the living room laughing. Because, of course, my phone was under the ottoman (and I swear that we had all checked under there at least twice each).
So, um, my phone is back and my house is clean, so I guess it all worked out for the best.