I’m so pissed off right now. My wedding ring has been missing since May 13 and it’s totally my fault. When I get home, the first thing I usually do is change out of my work clothes, and place my wedding ring on the wing of this Archangel Michael statue I was given as an RCIA present 15 years ago.
However, this particular Wednesday I decided to continue working on something in the garage. I figured Nightingale would be home any minute so I might as well wait for her and help unload Moose & Squirrel from the car. Let me emphasize that. The chaos that is our life today thanks to having two 8 month old kids who require constant attention and holding caused me to make the evaluation that I couldn’t spare 5 precious minutes to change out of my work clothes and put away my wedding band like I usually do. Yes, I love my kids. They are gifts from heaven though I’m fairly certain Hell handled the shipping & handling.
It feels so weird not having the ring on my finger. Yes I often take it off when I’m working out or doing some chores around the house that require using power tools. Or if there is a chance I could lose the ring say during garden work, then I take it off. And I usually take it off in the evening because it seems like my hands swell a little at the end of the day. But I always put it on that statue.
I have a vague memory of removing my ring and putting it in my pocket because I was working with a drill. However, that memory – of putting it in my pocket — could just be a vestigial remnant of some other memory since I do that all the time. Yes I know that vestigial and remnant are synonyms and thus redundant. That’s just how pissed off I am: I’m breaking grammar rules!
Because we are currently so sleep deprived, it is getting harder to function. That means some things just don’t get written to hi memory in our brain. Nightingale will ask “what time did we feed Moose & Squirrel last night” and I honestly cannot remember. It might have been 2 am. Or that could have been two days ago.
So it is quite plausible that the memory of putting my ring in my pocket is days or weeks old. Just an old memory file that was accessed when I asked my brain to search on “where is my ring’.
Update: the ring has been found! This morning I selected the pants I wore two weeks ago and it fell out of it. Now I not only checked these pants pockets a hundred times, but all the pants pockets of all my clothes. That the ring didn’t fall out in the last two weeks leads me to come to the only logical conclusions it could be: either ghosts or time travel is involved. Or perhaps writing about the ring (this post was sitting in my draft folder awaiting the final edits) cause the cosmic tumblers of the universe to shift. Imma gonna hedge my bets and say ghosts are still involved somehow.
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