So, this happened last night:

My wedding ring was on the losing end of a battle with the garbage disposal.

Here’s another look:

Yeah, it’s pretty beat up. And some of the diamonds are missing.

Wearing it in its rough-and-tumble state also really isn’t an option; it’s too busted to fit.

Am I upset?

Sure.

I really liked this ring.

Nearly 20 years ago we had it custom made at a jeweler in the town where we went to college, and I’ve worn it ever since. (My engagement ring ended up looking dated and went by the wayside ages – at least 15 years – ago. It lives a lonely life in a jewelry box in my closet).

Am I mad?

Not really.

It’s just a thing. Albeit a sparkly one.

Frankly, repair seems impossible at this point, so I’m likely going to (eventually) get something new to replace it.

In a way, it’s emblematic of a lot of things going on with me right now: some things are getting beat up and going way, and I’m clearing the path for new opportunities.

But you can bet your bottom dollar that the next ring is going to be even sparklier than the last one.

This should suffice.