Suffering extreme separation anxiety today. "Rolie", the Rolex my parents bought me for my PhD graduation has been on my wrist non-stop, except when showering, for every day and night for going on 30 years now, the last time she was serviced.
I finally broke down yesterday to give her the much needed cleaning, oiling and "buffing" she deserves, but damn it, I'm constantly, reflexively checking my left arm because the cranial Damage Control Systems are reporting errors down there. Have to figure out how to turn off the alarm or I'm going to be driven to drink over the next few weeks. Now that I think about that, it doesn't seem so bad...