I have a lot of jewelry. And by a lot, I mean A LOT. Really more than I can truly keep up with…apparently.
Several months ago, I bought a red gemstone ring (it was cheap and most likely glass….but it was red.) I was so excited! I got tons of compliments because it was a little unusual. Plus, for some inexplicable reason, out of the 400 pounds of jewelry I do own, I didn’t own anything red. And I thought I had solved this problem.
Until I got off the phone with my mom yesterday…
We were talking about jewelry, and I mentioned that I don’t own any red jewelry—to which she responded, “Yes, you do…you bought that ring.” (Sidenote: Don’t ask me how she knows what jewelry I own…we often talk on the phone for five hours at a time…what else do you talk about?) I drew a total blank. What ring? I had no idea what she was talking about…until it hit me that I had bought a super-cool red ring I haven’t seen for awhile. I have a really bad habit of shedding jewelry by mid-day and tossing it haphazardly in my purse, car, golf bag, on my sister’s kitchen counter or a friend’s coffee table. I knew this total disregard for careful placement could get me in trouble one day, but I’m a risk-taker so I guess it wasn’t enough of a threat to change my behavior.
The worst part of this situation: losing the ring? Nope. Feeling like I have officially lost my mind given that I can’t keep up with my stuff…or even remember it? No. It’s the knowledge that I now own something to which I am clueless of its location. Finding it has now turned into my latest obsession–Investigating every pocket, drawer, shelf, crevice, nook, cranny and boytoy’s coffee table for aforementioned missing ring. I keep having revelations of a place I haven’t yet inspected while I’m showering or driving or waiting for a client. And I rush to check it only to come up emptyhanded. It’s really quite sad…I will not have any decent sleep until this stupid ring surfaces…not cool.
