Missing In Action

I adore Drunk Kay. Really I do. But sometimes I think she has too much confidence in my ability to remember the things she does.

Somewhere between 3 and 10 days ago, she decided upon a new place for my ring. Logical Kay, lounging on her couch in the back of my brain, had the sense to interject "Drunk Kay, that's not one of the places we put the ring. Morning Kay will never find it."

"No, this is the best place ever. It's totally safe. Morning Kay will love it. She'll put all her important things here."




This ring is only sterling silver, but I love it. It's the only piece of metal I've been able to wear without a nasty reaction from my mysterious metal allergy. And that's only when I remember to take it off every night.

And since I cannot remember when I noticed it was missing, I don't even know whose house was the "safe, new place."

I really don't want to order it again, because I know that as soon as I do I'll find it. And then I probably will think Drunk Kay's new place is the best place ever. But until I can find that place, I am without my precious.