Reader. I’ve misplaced* a bag of jewelry. You know, a bag of jewelry I took on a trip with me, and kept all the pieces together in a bag for safe-keeping, a bag of most of my very favorite pieces of jewelry, which is why it was travelling with me in the first place. Including my very favorite sterling silver necklace, and a new diamond ring I bought for me because I love me**.
So yeah. I have seen it since I’ve been home. I know I have, because at one point it crossed my mind that I should empty the bag and put all the pieces of jewelry away in one of the four jewelry boxes that are strewn throughout my bedroom. Yes, four. Not because I have that much stuff. But because I never quite get to KoniMari-ing my jewelry and consolidating everything down into one big standing armoire or at the very most a standing case and a box on the dresser.
Now, I wouldn’t be quite so nervous about it if I didn’t have a history that included losing very expensive pieces of jewelry. It’s as if jewelry knows I love it and therefore runs and hides from me just as I’m getting very attached to it. It’s like a bad boyfriend.
Pieces which have successfully hidden from me include my very stunning 1.74 carat diamond engagement ring from 2nd husband, a clear and sparkly 1/2 carat diamond earring, pearl earrings, and other assorted pieces of jewelry. But those are the big tickets which have no longer become part of my collection. So somewhere, someone is going to get really lucky to find those, and I like to think it’s going to be someone who really needs it and I’ve turned their life around with my foolish handling. That’s what I tell myself to avoid throwing up about it.
Right now I’m in the “casually looking around, not quite frantic” stage of looking for my bag of favorites. Like, I’m checking places where I think I may have placed it for more of that “safe keeping” until I got around to putting it all away. I mean, I’ve seen it IN THE HOUSE, it has to be here.
Unless I have a ghost. A ghost that likes to wear my jewelry and it somehow disappears into the Other World. Which would be cool, except I’ll never know that for sure and I’d really like my stuff back, please, Ghost.
I like to pretend I’m efficient and organized, Reader. I like to think that. But the facts are I’m not, or else I wouldn’t constantly be looking for my stuff. I spend a good amount of time just looking for things. Which is the complete opposite of what the Magic of Tidying up should have taught me.
What about you, Reader? Ever lost anything that maybe a ghost took? Do share. Make me feel better about my own thieving ghost.
*I am at the second stage of grieving, in denial that it is gone for good. It will show up. I’m certain of it. Mostly certain. Somewhat certain. Fingers are crossed and I’ve sent a prayer up to St. Christopher. And I’m not even close to being a Catholic.
**I don’t need no stinkin’ man to buy me diamonds and flowers. I’ve got me covered. Which is a good thing, because no stinkin’ man is actually buying me diamonds and flowers. I’m glad I’ve got me.
Your ghost just told me you put it on the top of something, like a refrigerator or tall armoire, or high boy (very tall dresser, just in case you didn’t know the term – from my mother’s day). For some reason, I keep seeing a refrigerator and it might have gotten pushed back with some dishes or something. And the ghost said, “She blames me for everything!” Good luck!