Two more horses have vacated our premises. I am beginning to feel this weird dull feeling which may be the feeling of clinical depression. It makes me not want to get things out of the dryer. Or get out of bed. Cry in the car. Things are just bad at that barn. Finding the unfed, almost dead horse a few weeks ago, and not being able to call a horse rescue place since it is the horse rescue place was probably the last straw. Now it's just begging for a new place that is not worse than this one. It is hard. It makes me even not want to walk the dogs. They are all sitting here waiting to go somewhere.
I think without a ranch, a new career that is dog based would be great. If I had a place to put my horses. I am not sure what the new dog career is. I don't think dog walking works here, and I don't think that pet sitting is my cup of tea. Or enough dough. I don't think I'm good enough at agility to make it that. I have lost any creative thought process I think in the depression so I am not sure how the new idea will come.
It is going to sure suck if a nice ranch comes on the market and my riding program has gone to shit and I am so unemployed we can't afford to buy a new house. I am worried. This makes me not sleep. Which makes me feel worse. There's a Lindsay Lohan movie where she gets the shitty luck after many years of bad luck. I feel like I got that. I wonder where the writer came up with that, is it a true phenomena? How did it happen to me.
Did you ever dream that you were a dog agility super champ except then it switched and you were at some germy, grungy, derelict seaside park in the dark and the carnies were actually drug addled zombies that were shambling after you with hammers and their big teeth? And then as you're trying to escape your way out from under their oily, horrible claws by clambering up a rat infested palm tree, you're all, this is about dog agility like, how?
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