Spent a long weekend babysitting a house, a tiny yip dog, and a squeeky guinea pig. I indulged myself with chai tea lattés compliments of the Cocomotion (brilliant invention) and a fruit basket full of mini watermelons, grapefruits, and Florida oranges. S-bear spent much of the weekend with me, I think my laziness rubbed off on her. Nonetheless we never got sick of each other, seeing as that we are both already experiencing the winter-cold-of-misery.
Speaking of cold, it's dang cold here. This morning as I was returning to the mother city a sign read -2F! Oy. The cold has halted any horse riding endeavors, I even cancelled lessons. Spent more than an hour at the barn last night pounding ice out of waterbuckets. The joys of one's own passion, dedication can be a bitch.
AVH departed for the great island of Barbados yesterday. He rang me before he left, excited to be back out on the sea, joking about how an engine propeller fried itself that very morning (please honey, don't burn the boat down). Lovely. Every time he leaves somewhere (which happens quite often) I get this different feeling of missing him. There must be something about being on the move... or maybe it's just that I can no longer send him SMSs.
I'm trying to combat the unsociability of Mr. Future Olympian Employer by sending him a piece of very important looking mail. I have become determined to land this position, but mostly because of lack of any other idea on what the hell I'm supposed to do when I graduate (although, I would be content with just about any big name).
Besides that, maybe I'll be a little more motivated in AP this week?
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I think, though, that part of you has decided you want the Olympian job because Mr. Olympian seems to be saying you can't have it.
What is this Cocomotion? I have visions... of a dance club. Made out of chocolate with coffee fountains. Hopefully, I am not wrong.
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