Well, I haven't quite freaked out yet, let's just say I'm on the edge of a freak out.
For starters, I've misplaced my wedding rings. My REAL wedding rings- the set that the Husband gave me when we got married and the wrap that he gave me for our first anniversary. The set I don't wear because I need to get them resized and I just haven't gotten around to it yet. I didn't know that I had misplaced them until I went to put another ring away in my ring box. No wedding set. I methodically looked through all my jewelery stashes, and nope, no rings. I then thought that maybe I had left the set in a pocket in one of my purses; I was going to take it and get it resized, wasn't I? So last night I went through all my bags, and still, no rings. And no, I haven't told the Husband. I have decided that since I didn't know that they were missing until I opened that box, then if I don't look for them, I will find them. Won't they? They will, right? Crap.
The Husband called me yesterday at work to see if I could call the trash company to find out when heavy pick up day was. Why he couldn't call them, I don't know, but I gave them a call and sho 'nuff, it's tomorrow. I relayed the message back home, but the Husband said Loony Landlady had called and she said that it was today. Whatever. The Husband had put a bunch of crap out to the curb and that was that. Right? Wrong!
After the Husband and Chickenhead went on a Scout outing to tour Olathe city hall, I was enjoying my decompression time (lying in bed watching tv), when I heard a clatter out on the patio. I looked out the window and there was Loony Landlady's BoyToy getting ready to take a large planter. I knew the Husband wanted to get rid of some stuff on the patio but I didn't know what. So, calm, collected person that I am, I flew out the back door and basically scared BoyToy away. I called the Husband- "You won't believe this crap!" I told him about BoyToy trying to make off with our property. "Oh yeah. I told Loony Landlady that if BoyToy wanted he could get rid of the planter and the old gas grill. Sorry. Guess I didn't tell you". Yeah, I guess not. Dumbass.
Now I suppose I could have called Loony Landlady and played it off like nothing had happened, and see if she would send BoyToy back over. But I was too embarassed by my previously shrewish behavior. So I dug out my old tennis shoes, my grungy, stained, hair-coloring night t-shirt, and went outside. It was raining, and by this time, I was even more pissed off. Pissed because Husband had left me out of the loop. Pissed because it was raining. Pissed because I now had to drag this shit around to the front of the house (pardon my French) by myself because I had myself a hissy fit. I'm sure any neighbors watching were mightily impressed with my ability to drag a gas grill through wet leaves and grass, muttering curse words under my breath the entire way.
It's over now, what's done is done. I'm going to go home tonight, batten down the hatches in preparation for the 30-feet of snow they are predicting, and I'm not going to look for my ring. I'm not going to think about it, I'm not going to fret, obsess or stew over it. When I'm not looking, I'll find it, right? Maybe I'll find my dignity somewhere along the way, too.