No pretty pictures, today. No blathering about my latest Etsy lustings…
Last night, I went to brush my teeth & somehow managed to knock my engagement ring off the bathroom shelf, to fall with a sickening rattle through the wire shelves underneath the sink unit… and through a crevice I never previously knew existed.
I was utterly DISTRAUGHT. I had a full-on panic-attack and spent most of the night crying & shaking.
Maintenance chap from letting agent’s is coming on Friday to rip up the bathroom floor and [crosses fingers & prays to Saint Anthony*] FIND my engagement ring.
Be-ringleted fiance being amazing, saying if we can’t find it we can replace it etc etc… But but but… My lip starts quivering again at this point. We took ages to find it (well, 10 minutes once we were in Brighton’s beautiful Lanes, but I looked everywhere before that!) and it was a one-off created by an artisan jeweler there.
It wasn’t insured.
But it WILL be found, so none of this matters, right?
*Saint Anthony is the Catholic Patron Saint of Lost Things
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