Girl with the Doody Earring

While there are many good things going on lately, I remain frustrated by how the apartment renovation is proceeding (it's moving forward and looks great, but if the contractor changes the plan one more time and then acts as if it was my idea, I will strangle him) and last weekend my bubbe had a stroke while visiting my sister in Iowa. She's fine, but things were very complicated because she is a demanding and irrational person under the best of circumstances, and these were far from it. Hence, quality sleep evaded me every night this week.

During one of my wee hours of the morning awake sessions, I sat on the fancy new toilet, fiddling with my earrings. When I dropped the silver ball that I wear in my cartilage pierce and I heard it clink on the dusty floor, I got down on my hands and knees and searched. I couldn't find it. I figured that it was because I had no sight enhancing apparatus on, so I fetched my glasses from the bedroom. Still nothing.

A sinking feeling occupied the pit of my stomach. I lifted the lid to the toilet and peered in. There sat my earring. This would be no big deal except that I was using the toilet when I dropped my earring. Also, I had recently lost another small earring that I wore in my cartilage pierce in the shower, and a search for a replacement yielded nothing suitable other than the little ball I already owned. (It seems that super small earrings are not in right now, even for little kids.)

I pondered the dilemma for a few seconds. Should I perform a deep (dirty) water rescue? If so, would a rubbing alcohol bath for the recovered treasure be enough to prevent my from contract e. coli through a hole in my ear?

I really did not want to walk around with a hole visible in my ear when I had a job interview, so I took a deep breath and reached in. So far, I'm not suffering any ill effects. Husband, however, may want to think twice before nibbling on my right ear.