The innocent can never last.

Have not quite paused for a moment to think of anything to write. Nonetheless, the shit is hitting the fan (to put it lightly).

It has boiled down to the week of D.Mar's surgery, which is this Friday. In my own Little Girl way I have found myself silently wishing that she doesn't have cancer, that it's nothing serious, that there's no monster hiding inside, or to move past what life will be like if there's something terrible going on.

I'm stressed about school, I have a short 4 week haul to the grand finale and I cross my fingers that with everything in a whirlwind around me I will pull out with acceptable, passing grades. I don't mind school (as much as I complain about it) but I have also taken on other seemingly more important responsibilities. I suppose I'll find out if this is a good plan or not.

Speaking of illogical plans, I'm putting in an offer on another horse. Seriously. I have no logical explanation for my motives or how I think any of this will be possible. It's fun though, and, like mum says "when it rains, it pours!"

The horse show that I have planned and organized is this weekend. I have an assload more of organizing to do, sorting awards, paperwork, prepping the judge (the lovely JR) amongst making sure helpers, riders, parents, and all others are in the right places at the right times. Can.I.breathe.yet?

Rowan has been a doll, minus our near death experience of "The Honeymoon has Officially Ended". Or, well, maybe it's just that I really should ride him every day otherwise he goes a little coocoo. I absolutely adore him though, and I think he is quite fond of me as well.

I just received a bill for my MRI: $1,217. For serious. They might as well just have taken my leg off for that cost.

But alas, I'm surviving. It has been taxing, but it's livable. (although, I have been fending off sickness for approximately two weeks now, oy oy.)

Please let Friday bring good news. (sigh.)