Several years ago (many many several years ago) I had my 32nd birthday. This was the birthday that sent me for a loop. You know what I mean, that certain birthday that really gets to you. Yeah, 32 was it for me.
I was at a rough spot in a former relationship...and I found my first real wrinkle!
To try and counter the bad feelings, I started tanning again (yeah, that's a smart thing to do when a person is already concerned about wrinkles), got another tattoo, totally changed my hair...and got my navel pierced. My little bear, Ben, went with me for the piercing and picked out my navel ring. In the several (many many several) years since that time, that ring has never been out. I had a hysterectomy and it stayed in. Yesterday, it had to come out.
I was having a medical procedure done that required absolutley no jewlery to be worn. After explaining the length of time said ring has been attached to my body, I was given the option to leave it in...but would have to sign a release form in case of getting burned. Would you believe I actually was considering it?! I didn't realize the attachment I have to this silly little thing.
I'm sure I could take some time and search my mind as to why this bothered me so...but that would take effort. Instead, I just put it back in and all is right in the world again.
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