I have more than one post for my nicely pierced nose.
I have the one I wear every day – the fancy one! – that is my favorite. It’s 14 karat gold and has a blue opal in it. It’s pretty, but it does kind of ask you to look at it – and when you do, you’ll say, “ooooh, that’s PRETTY!” because everyone does.
It’s that pretty.
However, it’s not ideal for ALL situations because of the “Hi, Look At ME!” factor. So when I want to be more, er, subtle, I swap it out for something smaller. Something more office appropriate, if a post jammed through a nostril could ever be thought office appropriate.
When I had to go to visit a client, that’s what I did: took out the daily “I’m SO FAAAAHBULOUS” post, set it aside carefully in an envelope, where it would not get lost, and slipped in a tiny silver post with a tiny silver ball at the end of it. Conservative, part of my brain said approvingly. Boooorinnnnng, said the other part of my brain.
And off I went. In my pencil skirt and jacket and blouse and heels, ready to do my best “Wheee, I’m a responsible adult” impersonation with a client.
If the client was surprised at my (relative) youth and appearance, she didn’t mention it, bless her heart. We had a lovely meeting, though I did get totally lost on the way to her office and finally had to call from a Dunkin Donuts parking lot and
beg for request some assistance.
When I got home (which I managed to do without getting lost) I transformed back into my regular schleppy self. Fancy skirt replaced by floor length skirt. Heels kicked off. Blouse replaced by tshirt. Contact lenses quickly ditched.
And to complete the reversion back to home office diva, I popped out the “I’m a serious grown up” nose ring and then quickly replaced my favorite post.
At least, that’s what was SUPPOSED to happen.
In reality, here’s what happened: the changing of the clothes? Successful. Losing the shoes? Awesome. Yanking out the contacts? Fine and dandy.
I took the plain post out of my nose.
I took up the envelope where my fabulous post was hanging out.
I opened the envelope.
And then heard what can only be described as “bounce, bounce, tink” as the post fell OUT of the envelope and went flying to … somewhere.
Now, in case you don’t realize it, a post for your nostril? Is MUCH smaller than, say, a stud earring. They’re fairly wee. Which means that if one goes flying out of an envelope and lands on a mass of beige carpet, it quickly becomes INVISIBLE.
This, of course, SUCKS.
I stared at the floor in horror. Nothing sparkled back up at me. I got down on my hands and knees and searched. Nothing. No blue opal. No fun, glimmery post.
I realized that I could just call the game and put one of my boring posts in. But I didn’t WANT to. I wanted my fun post back. I WANTED TO HAVE BLUE SPARKLY GOODNESS HUGGING MY NOSTRIL!
I got the flashlight and I went back in, cursing myself for being clumsy and I ran the light over the floor, hoping to see a bit of shine.
When I directed the beam under the dresser, I found that, apparently, my cat has been using that area as a treasure chest, because I found:
8 sparkle balls
1 catnip mouse
3 hair elastics (I don’t even know where she FOUND those)
4 socks, none of which matched each other, but which had been stolen from the laundry by the basket bandit
But no nose ring.
I thought I might cry. I kind of wanted to, if I’m to be truthful, but since lately my default for stressful situations has been to burst into tears, I fought it. NO ONE LIKES A CRIER, I said sternly as I gathered up the sparkle balls and assorted other nonsense that Rhiannon has been stashing under the dresser. This is NOT a big deal.
And then I saw it, gleaming weakly by my foot.
“Oh thank the sweet baby Jesus!” I said as I snatched it up. A quick dash to the bathroom and a soak in rubbing alcohol and it was ready to be jammed back into my nose, where it belongs.
I looked back in the mirror and smiled. Sometimes it takes so very little to make me happy.