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Broke
Wife, Big City
The
five stages of panic
By
Aprill Brandon
There
are a lot of firsts
when it comes to marriage. The first time you kiss as husband and wife.
The
first dance. The first fight. The first time you lose your first fight.
The
first time you bring back up the original fight a few months later in a
vain effort
to try to win this time.
And,
it's inevitable: The
first time you lose your wedding ring.
Luckily,
I managed to make
it a whole year and a handful of months before the latter finally
happened to
me (which is pretty amazing considering I've lost my actual husband
before...twice). But when it eventually did happen, it was the longest
20
minutes of my life. An
exhuasting 20
minutes in which my body and mind went through the five stages of panic.
See,
contrary to popular
belief, panic isn't just panic, one singular feeling. There are
actually
different levels you go through, when say, you mess up big time at
work, or
accidentally post something embarrassing online (like that video of you
singing
Lady Gaga in your underwear...not that I've ever done that...or
anything...),
or yes, when you lose your wedding ring.
For
instance, the 20
minutes in which I thought I lost my ring looked something like this:
Stage
1: Denial
No.
Oh, no. No, no, no. No,
no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no...no, no, no. This can't be
happening.
There's no way I lost my wedding ring. I just had it. Right? Right.
Right? I
remember taking it off last night when I was chopping that onion. And I
don't
remember putting it back on before heading to the emergency room for
stitches.
It
has to be here
somewhere. No need to panic.
Stage
2: Anger
Where
are you!?! Stupid
ring. What a ludicrous, antiquated tradition anyway. "Hey, I love you,
let's get married, here's some expensive jewelry." Ridiculous. Why not
give each other household appliances or several cases of booze or
something
useful that you actually need in marriage?
And
what was he thinking
anyway, buying such a nice ring? What, suddenly he's Donald Trump? Hey,
I'm no
fool. I saw that "Blood Diamond" movie with Leonardo DiCaprio. People
probably died because of that stupid ring. I don't want that kind of
violence
on my hands!
This
is all HIS fault!
Stage
3: Manic-Depressive
OK,
OK, I'll just search
every room. And under the couch. And the bathroom counter. And the
closet. And
the porch. And the car. And the foyer. Wait, do we have a foyer? Maybe
it fell
off when I reached for something in the fridge? Nope? OK. Well, maybe
that
stupid dog ate it. Buffy! Get it in here! Don't you run away from me!
Bad dog!
Come here! Why are you cowering in the corner!?!
Oh,
what's the point? I'll
never find it. And then I'll have to tell him I lost it. And then he'll
hate
me. And then he'll want to divorce me. And then I'll die a lonely old
spinster
without even a ring to remember the good 'ol days. This is the worst
day of my
life. I might as well just curl up and DIE (dramatically throws self on
bed and
sobs).
Stage
4: Lame Excuses
Alright,
just calm down.
I'll just tell him the dog ate it. Hmm...although that could mean a
rather uncomfortable
couple of days sifting through poo for no legitimate reason. OK...or I
could
just say I'm getting it cleaned. Buy me a couple extra days.
Except...what do I
say if I still can't find it?
I
got mugged! That's it.
I'll tell him I got mugged. A gang of thugs cornered me and took the
ring. But
then left my purse and wallet?
Ugh.
He'll never believe
that.
Aliens!
I got abducted by
aliens. Who could blame me for losing track of my ring when probes are
involved, right?
Or
maybe I could just tell him
I lost weight and it flung off my hand? That's plausible, right? Oooh,
except
he'll never buy that since the six-pound nacho challenge at El Guapo I
attempted last Tuesday.
Stage
5: Acceptance
Well,
it's official. The
ring is gone. I'll just have to break the news to him and deal with the
consequences. It was a beautiful ring but hey, our love is stronger
than just
some symbolic jewelry. We are devoted to each other and that's all that
matters. Besides, we can always just save up some money and buy a new
one and
this can just be some funny anecdote I write in a column...
Ahhhh!
There it is. YES! Oh
yes, yes, yes, yes. Oh, you beautiful ring! I'll never lose you again!
Never,
never, never! I'll never even take you off again! Maybe I'll even get
you surgically
attached to my hand! Or put a tracking device inside the diamond!
(Naturally,
that last part
is the elusive Stage 6: Relief and Empty Promises).
Can’t
get enough of Aprill? Can’t wait until
next week?
Check
out her website at http://aprillbrandon.com/
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