What a weekend. What weekend? Waiting for the weekend. Working for the weekend. Fuck it, the weekend’s here. It’s all a blur, the last few days, years, decades really. But it’s Friday now, so no worries. I feel disgusted with myself for the shape I’m in (rounded at the edges), so I must be alive. Fortunately, I am not at the point where I feel nervous around harpoons.
We have a new horse, of course, to go with the new pups. She’s white, or maybe gray. It is hard to tell at this time of year. Being a rescue horse (horse that was rescued, not one that goes out and rescues others), she is underweight, which makes her look kind of funny. Ha-ha.
It’s a swim meet weekend, so I won’t be doing all of the fun stuff I had originally planned: Change the oil on the truck, mulch the shrubbery, fix up the swamp cooler for summer and clean out the sprinkler system. To be honest, I think I’d rather be at the swim meet.