As soon as I finished writing about why I'm not blogging, I went home and checked One Last Place--my wardrobe. Now, I don't see why a ring would be in my wardrobe, but I looked anyway.
And guess what? I didn't find the ring. But I did find the $3.00 in riels that I was sure had been ripped off. Apparently, I did the responsible thing and put them inside a small medicine chest, which I normally keep toothbrushes in. I don't know how they got there--I have no memory of doing that, but I guess it was over a month ago.
That, of course, raises the tantalizing possibility that no one actually took my ring. I've accidentally swept the ring into the trash on at least one other occasion, and it's possible I did that again without noticing, somehow. Although I have a distinct memory of hurriedly shoving it between some other things, it is possible I didn't do that when I thought I did. Like I said, it's been a month.
So I must concede that the ring is equally likely to be missing due to my own negligence than due to thievery. Although I still wish I had the ring, I'd rather it belong to a garbage picker than a thief.
Because I can now entertain the possibility that no one ripped me off, the storm clouds have lifted. Vengeance need not be mine; I lay my weapons down. I am at peace.
And the ring may yet turn up, who knows?
Yes! The ring may be found, let hope that someone like Frodo might return it to you, or at least, you might find it somewhere around the corner. Fingers crossed!
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