Who the heck do I think I am?

Thanks, everyone, for the birthday greetings and all. Unfortunately it was a pretty blah day.

And to top it off, I lost my escarbuncle ring.

( Cut for those who know, remember, or don't care about the story behind the ring )
The problem is it gets loose on my hand and it has slipped off in the past - always I've noticed (felt/heard) it immediately and picked it back up. And with the cold weather we've been having, it must have fallen off my finger...somewhere. What really bothers me about this is that I know I had it while waiting for the bus last night, but I didn't notice it was missing until almost 5 hours later, while I was in the shower before bedtime.

I've checked my pockets. I've checked my gloves. I've checked inside my briefcase. I even felt around the inside of my garbage disposal and also patted down my trash bags before taking them to the curb this morning. No ring.

I think - fear - that it fell off somewhere between the 2 buses and 2 trains I take to get home. And if that's the case, I doubt I'll ever see it again. I know that the MBTA is "not responsible for lost or stolen articles" but I don't even see a place to ask if something got recovered on their website. Anyone know if calling customer service will do any good? I guess it can't hurt.

It topped off what turned out to be a very strange, lonely landmark birthday. I didn't expect much - it's the middle of the week, and it's only my third day at a brand-new job - but on the whole, it was really damn depressing and boring and just... blah. I mean, even last year, when the cop pulled me over for speeding, it was annoying, but at least interesting, and hell, he *acknowledged* that it was my birthday. I didn't have this much of a problem with 30...why is 35 so much harder? The only thing of note all day (besides all your kind wishes!) was losing my ring. Fuck. Grr. Sorry - I'm not usually so emo and whingey.

Though I learned something from my father about my birth that was interesting: he wasn't there. Now, this doesn't actually surprise me because I believe in the 70's it wasn't standard to allow the father into the birthing room, but what's interesting is that that's not *why* he wasn't there. He was still trying to find a parking space. No, really. I knew I was born quickly (my mother's labour lasted all of about an hour), but dang.


ETA: I found the MBTA's lost-and-found numbers, but so far struck out. 3/4 have no ring logged; the other place I need to call back in about half an hour. So *if* anyone found it, they didn't turn it in, or it *might* be in my house...somewhere. Sigh. I guess I can always commission another one. I just hate being so careless.