I love jewelry. Wait, let me reiterate that statement. I L-O-V-E jewelry. It does not have to be expensive or come from a glass enclosed case but it does have to be interesting. I prefer something unique and eye catching. To me, jewelry is a conversation piece. It is worth wearing if it sparks up a comment, even if the comment isn’t flattering. If a remark is made than it is definite that it caught someone’s attention. You would think a person who loves jewelry as much as I do would be meticulous about its upkeep. Yeah, you would think. Unfortunately this is not me. I start out with the best intentions. I promise myself with each new piece I will take very good care of it. Sort of like a five-year-old begging for a puppy, promising to feed it, walk it and even help with bath time. The puppy comes and the promises get broken almost immediately. It always happens the same way, the first night I remove my jewelry and proudly tuck it away into its safe haven. The jewelry box I begged my husband to buy me so I could take care of my adornments. The second night I’m too tired to walk upstairs to put it all away, but I do anyway because I made a promise. By the third night I take my bracelets off and set them next to my keyboard, assuring myself they will be fine until morning. It’s not until the next morning I curse myself for not putting it away. I hear small pings scattering across the hardwood floor. At first the noise doesn’t register. I dismiss it as usual background noise.  It’s not odd to hear things hit the floor. Someone is always dropping something and mostly on purpose. About a minute after the noise my thoughts are awakened and I realize what the noise was. It was the sound of small beads falling to the floor after being released from the small stretchy band they were strung upon. It was… my new bracelet. “What was that?” I call out. By this time whoever was responsible for the destruction of my newest favorite piece is pretending to not know what I’m talking about. “What was what?” is the response. I search the floor hoping to see a random marble (even though I know this would have made a heavier sound). I circle around the coffee table looking for a trail of beads. Just as I’m about to exhale and tell myself I was wrong I step on a small pointy object. I know before I even look what I will find. There wedged into my bare sole like it belonged there is a bead to my new bracelet. Luckily, it was actually six bracelets meant to be worn together  (Chunky jewelry-my fave) and five were still left. I gather the remaining five and race upstairs to my bedroom to put them in their proper place. I make another promise to myself. I am an optimist and believe one day I will win the fight with my alter ego. I am also a realist and acknowledge I have many earrings, bracelets, necklaces, scarves, head bands and charms amongst the missing. It was because of the broken promises they were lost and haven’t been found.   I am missing one of the trait’s Virgo’s are known for-“organization” and I would like it found.  

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