If It Was Up Your Ass...

Yesterday proved that John shouldn't buy me nice things from Tiffany as I will quickly break or lose them. I wore my cute little heart necklace to work on the shorter chain it came with instead of the longer one I had already. At some point during the day, it must have broken (or maybe wasn't clasped on properly to begin with?) and slid off my neck. In the evening, I discovered my necklace missing by coincidence. Or should I say by discomfort. The kind requiring an adjustment. I was wearing a pullover bra/tank thing and the pendant had dropped into my bra. "What the... ???" was my first reaction when I felt a round metal thing drop out of the bottom of the bra into my hand. Before seeing it, I thought, "How did I get a dime in my bra?" Then I looked at it and was immediately saddened (and mad at myself). I'm such a tard!

The chain is who knows where. Not in my underwear, as John suggested. Not at work. Not at home. Not in the jackass. Not in the parking lot. Not in my scarf. Not in my coat hood.

As John's co-worker likes to say, "If it was up your ass, you'd know where it was!"

Oh well... at least I have the pendant.