I woke up in an excellent mood today and skipped merrily to work. And when I got there I bought my breakfast porridge and sat at my desk to read emails and catch up with the latest exploits of my friends and family on Facebook. As is often my custom, I took off my rings and applied some hand cream.
After a couple of minutes, when the cream had sunk in a bit, I went to put my rings back on … and discovered that my lovely, lovely eternity ring had vanished into thin air. Long-term readers will recall that this is the same eternity ring that Tristan bought me in Cape Town two years ago, as a tenth wedding anniversary present. Here it is in all its glory, on top of Table Mountain:
I spent most of the day ransacking my office. I hadn’t moved from my chair before the ring vanished and nobody had been in my office. I hadn’t picked up any files. Despite this, I turned my entire office upside-down, crawled under my desk and looked at its inner workings, investigated every dusty corner of the carpet, had a bit of a cry, rang Tristan, rang my friend Chiara from a couple of offices down and got her to join me, went through my entire desk again, took everything off my desk, shook everything, patted myself down, checked my coat pockets, checked my bag, got to that mental stage where you start checking places where there is no way that a ring could hide, re-checking places that you’ve already checked several times… you get the general idea.
My ring has vanished and I am so sad. I thought that I might have forgotten to put it on this morning (for the first time in two years), but it isn’t at home either. I’ve posted a message about it on the firm’s online public noticeboard, but nobody has found it. I’ve left a note for our cleaners. I have no idea what’s happened to it.
Anyway, I’m just feeling sick when I think of it. I am really careful with my things and I don’t often lose stuff – and I’ve certainly never lost something so lovely, so precious to me and so valuable. It’s just terrible.