call me carrie.
about two months ago, i lost my favorite necklace. it made me feel so careless, and i couldn’t help being upset by the loss. ever since then, i’ve considered seeking out the designer again, re-buying it (it is now more expensive than it once was), and having it shortened again.
last week, while fishing around in my bag for something else entirely, i came across the buried corner of a tiny ziplock - which, to my wonderment, contained the necklace. my friends, who were in the room at the time, just said, “okay, carrie bradshaw.”
the thrill of the discovery, and the relief that came along with it, was a much needed feeling.
(if only it wasn’t so temporary.)
