Today I finally had some breathing room. I had class at the crack of dawn, as per usual (7:30). I then had a gap until 3:00pm. So I went home. I mowed one field before Bryan called and informed me that he had taken the rest of the diesel to Maine with him. So I chickened out and didn’t mow any more since I didn’t want to run out. Then I read some board review material. Then Sherry came out and I rode Maverick while she rode Fidel. That was a lot of fun – it’s been too long! He feels great and I think he missed me. The last few times I’ve ridden (other horses), he’s followed us around the field! My spirit is uplifted already.

Tomorrow I’m on call for the colic team by myself which to me is defeating the purpose a little bit. My whole desire in all this is to teach underclassmen about receiving emergencies, show them how to do procedures, etc. and then eventually turn them loose. To just go in by myself, well. . . I’ve seen plenty of colics and they don’t actually NEED my help. . . oh, well. Maybe I can get some mowing and studying done while remaining in range of the phone.

On Sunday, Kelly, her daughter Emma, and I are going down to the Tack Shack, a store in Ocala. They are having their monthly “Horsey Yard Sale” where people come bring their accumulated mess to try to sell to others. It’s fun, and I haven’t been out with them in a while. I’ve been missing our sushi dates. Then I was invited to one of the new residents’ house-warming parties. Hopefully it will be a good time.

So never fear. My sunshiny disposition has returned. All is well. Now I’m going to go see about the ArtWalk tonight. I still owe the bead lady a dollar!

I am so sick of school right now. I can’t tell if I’m just tired and grumpy or if the senioritis is becoming chronic or maybe a little of both. I just know I am ready to be done. Done with class, done with board review, especially done with boards. Done with Wendy reminding me to study for boards. Done sitting in lecture 8 hours a day, from 7:30 am to 8:30 pm with ridiculous breaks in between just long enough to waste an inordinate amount of time but usually not long enough to do anything. Done with the b.s. pathology assignments although they are really the only reason I have learned anything from the class. Done learning about life cycles of porcine parasites. Ivermectin every two months – that’s all you need to know. Done wondering where my day has gone and why I haven’t done anything productive with it. Why the laundry is touching the ceiling and the dishes are threatening to take over the kitchen and I have lost every flat surface in my house to a mountain of paper. DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE! I FREAKING HATE THIS CRAP!!!!!!! I HATE EXAMS, I HATE LECTURES, I HATE BUSYWORK. I’M ALMOST A DOCTOR, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! The part that scares me about almost being done is the workup process. The decision-making process. The hands-on treatment process. Not the studying out of a book, filling in bubbles, cram-and-regurg process. As Casey Stengel said, you could look it up. And so I can. I hate feeling like I hate vet school when I know what I hate is these infinitely long, only mildly-to-moderately productive days. The end is in sight and most likely then I’ll be okay again. One can only hope, anyway.

There goes the neighborhood

Originally uploaded by horseballerina.

After a long (for him) visit (a month), Bryan finally headed north with what’s left of his worldly possessions. He did a really good job this time of getting rid of things and being productive. According to him, it’s harder work being retired than it was being employed.

Among other things, he replaced the ball joints, rear tires, fuel filter, and front speakers in my truck. And perhaps best of all, he installed a brand spanking new CD player in it! So those trips to Pensacola, Kentucky, Miami, or wherever won’t be so bad. It will be sooooooooo nice to have that, especially on those stretches along I-10 and I-75 where there aren’t even any bad radio stations, let alone any good ones.

He also scored me a tractor and did a lot of mowing for me. The boarders love when he visits because the place always looks so much better. He showed me how to drive it though, so hopefully I can keep it up even in his absence.

It was a nice visit, and as always I am sad to see him go. But not too sad, because I know he’s never really GONE. Off to gallivant around the country perhaps, but never more than a phone call away. Except maybe when he’s in the woods of Alaska, but even then he’s only an email away. I’m glad because he really is my bestest friend (except when he’s being obnoxious – then I want to kick him!)

Safe travels, B! Somewhere in the music I ripped to your computer is a Terri Clark song called “Damn Right”. Listen to the words (I know that’s a challenge for you – do it for me) and think of me. Just substitute “Bluebirds” for “T-Birds” and it could be about us.

Josh,Eli,Sam

Originally uploaded by horseballerina.

Sam’s a Marine pilot and amateur filmmaker. He had just learned (courtesy of GQ) that one’s socks should be darker than one’s pants but lighter than one’s shoes and was eager to not only share the knowledge but also proudly display the proof that he had taken the advice to heart.

Josh, on the other hand, is studying to be an RD (that’s Real Doctor) and already knew that. He was wearing what can only be described as nylon almost-socks so that he gave the appearance of being sockless but didn’t get his tootsies sweaty. I found this highly suspicious, but Eli assured me that he’s straight. He says the metrosexual thing is very South Florida. Again, I could not function for long. But it was a nice visit.

More_Towels

Originally uploaded by horseballerina.

So I went down to Miami last weekend to visit my sister and meet her future in-laws. My first trip to South Florida. Wow. It’s definitely a whole different world down there. I could not function more than a few days, I think. But it was fun. Frema, Eli’s mama, throws one hell of a party. Good food, good wine, good people. Luckily Eli had a few friends and his sister there, so there were some other people our age. Although Sam insisted that he was waaaaaaaaaay older than me (he’s 32). And Josh would never admit how old he was.