Muddle-headed fool

I lost my ring and I am now feeling really, really low.

The ring has been my constant companion for more than six years. I received this ring, a slip of white gold with the tiniest diamond in the middle, after I had accidentally flushed the previous one down the toilet bowl. Since then, I try to take good care of it, being sure to remove it whenever I shower or know I will get my hands dirty.

I have this habit of playing with it when I am nervous or upset, it’s a comforting act. I like twirling it around the middle finger of my left hand. I wear it almost all the time, such that there is a slight depression on my flesh where it always lies.

But I lost it today, because I was tired and wasn’t focusing.

I took it off at the dressing table in the gym today. Normally, I would remember to put it back but somehow today, after just five hours of sleep from a marathon of afternoon-morning shifts, it totally slipped my mind. By the time I remembered and rushed back into the elevator, it was gone.

Ironically, I had been playing with it at work today, thinking about how shift work would change the dynamics of my relationship with the boyfriend today and feeling glad that I had my ring, and in turn his presence, with me.

But I lost it today. And I can’t believe I did that.