“Who cares?”

I can just hear one of my writing professors from college saying that about my past couple of posts. He could tell all semester that I was writing surface-level stuff, but that I was capable of more.

And that’s one of the elements from matt, liz and madeline that inspired me. He isn’t embarrassed about disclosing his deepest emotions or most intimate memories to his hundreds of readers. I should be just as willing to sacrifice a little discomfort for the sake of… well, good writing, if nothing else.

So here I go.

My computer speakers are failing. The bass sounds muffled when the volume is at a decent level. However, they have been my source of music in the spare bedroom, where the treadmill is located. So for my mediocre run this evening, I pulled my clock radio off the night stand in my bedroom and used that.

Just a few moments ago, I went into my bedroom to start getting ready for some sleep. I set my phone on my night stand. There’s an empty space where my clock radio usually sits. And there’s a ring.

A toe ring. A friend gave it to me a while back. I wear it occasionally with sandals in the summer. It must have been sitting behind my clock radio for several months.

But — just for an instant — my subconscious thought it was a different ring.