I have little to report of interest on the Tucker front (we are up to 15 minutes of trotting with a couple of walk breaks in between!). But I'm pretty sure I can't bore you guys (or myself) any more than I already have with stories about Tucker trotting. Would you like to hear about how we've started adding serpentines into the mix? Yeah, I thought not. I don't feel like writing about it either.
Although I'm sure that after following me for years you've all come to the conclusion that I'm just an absolutely perfect person, devoid of any flaws whatsoever, and never have a bad day or think anything but bright, cheery, sunny thoughts... can I be honest for a second? (I sincerely hope, by the way, that my many flaws are coming through on the blog. I find them somewhat endearing, even if no one else quite sees it that way.) Well assuming you all nodded at your computers just now and said "Yes, Marissa, please... be honest with us. What's up?"
I'm actually very busy right now moping and pouting and sinking myself into a miserable little heap. I'm mentally stomping my foot. I'm metaphorically crossing my arms and frowning. I would very much like to trade places with my two-year-old niece today so that I could deliver one of those "nnnnnnnnnnnnNO!" pronouncements that she does so well.
Why, you ask, am I an overgrown toddler today? Because, that's why. (Sorry, I couldn't resist.) It's the Wednesday before St. Christopher's, one of my favorite away shows, and I should be packing the trailer and cleaning my tack and bathing my horse tonight, so that we're ready for the drive tomorrow, but instead I'm planning on doing 15 minutes of trotting tonight. I should be leaving work early tomorrow, but I'm not. I will be doing laundry this weekend, when I should be sitting ringside watching the Mini Prix. So I'm frowning. There's a picture of us from last year at St. Chris on my desk, and I swear, it's mocking me. So I'm frowning some more.
I know what you're thinking. I should be happy my horse is recovered right? I should be looking forward to next month, when hopefully we'll get to show again? I should be happy that I even have a horse (wait a second, that I have two horses)? Yeah, well, I'm not. I'm pouting instead. I'm being a brat.
I had an absolutely wonderful ride on Reggie, Alicia's horse, this past weekend, cantering along in a big field... taking in deep breaths and smelling all the spring smells -- grass, mud, flowers, fly spray, horse sweat, clean laundry.... It was heavenly. It put me in a really good mood. Until I realized that cantering my horse is still two weeks away. Then I got mopey.
But I guess this answers the question of why I do all the ridiculous things I do... why I spend all this time and money on a sport that requires me to get up before the sun and stand on a ladder for 2 hours... drive my truck and trailer all over the State of New Jersey every weekend... stand around in the hot sun all afternoon waiting for a class that was supposed to start at 10 a.m.... and come into work exhausted every Monday morning all summer long...
Because without it, I am a pouty, whiney, annoying, sniveling little brat. Nobody would read that blog.