I’ve been feeling very pensive and very mortal lately. I think the anniversary has had me thinking–and when I think about GB and me growing old together (*knock knock*), I inevitably get all sappy and sentimental and then I start freaking out about death. It’s a thing with me.

So this didn’t help much, even though it tells me I won’t check out until August 7, 2060, and that I still have 19,450 days to go. That just doesn’t seem like enough.

Enough for what?

You know. Just, enough.

Anyway. So yeah, yesterday was our first/eleventh anniversary together (11th together, 1st married). We had planned a camping trip weeks ago, back to the scene of the crime–the campsite where we got married. Bad Idea and the Squirrel couldn’t make it, but Jason, IB/DM, and Blanche came camping with us. And because GB is nothing if not always symbolically dramatic….

…he lost his wedding ring at the campground.

Seriously. Exactly one year to the day, at the same campground (though not the same site).

We were all pretty drunk when he realized it was missing, and the light from the campfire wasn’t enough to search by, so we looked a little around the site, then figured we’d find it in the morning. Spent the next day searching the site (and eating, and roasting marshmallows/hotdogs/pepperoni/other roastable things)….nada. No ring. And no matter how many times GB says, “If I was going to lose it anywhere, at least it was here,” it just kind of sucks.

He assures me, though, that we *are* still married anyway. So that’s reassuring.

Anyway. We’ve ordered a new ring for him, and in the meantime I dropped mine off today to be resized, so the same thing doesn’t happen to mine (both of our rings have been way too loose, and we’ve just been too lazy to get them sized).

And other than that, I seem to also be suffering from Trixie’s B.A.D. I’m still around, I just haven’t had much will to blog. Maybe when I start dissertating again (this week? I mean, this week!), I’ll feel more motivated….?