In which she admits defeat

I haven't seen my watch for over two weeks, maybe three, not even in the wake of a fairly major (for me) cleanup. It has a stretchy band, so it couldn't have come unclasped and fallen off unnoticed. No, I have taken it off and put it down somewhere.

But who can say when, or why, or where? I have retraced my steps; I have meditated, trying to dredge up a memory; I have moved furniture, thinking a cat might have batted it somewhere out of sight; I have had a Girl's Look every day since I realised it was missing. On the advice of a Facebook Friend I have even prayed to St Anthony, patron saint of lost objects, without result. It was a nice watch and it wasn't cheap and I had only had it for about six months.

But I can't manage without one any more, so in a minute I'm going into the city to see if I can find a new one that I like and can afford. And there is not a shadow of a doubt in my mind that if I do that, the old one will turn up before sunset.