The Occupation of all my Thoughts

I met someone the other day.

He is beautiful.

A little shorter than the sorts I usually tend to go for. But lovely eyes, fantastic shape, perfect teeth. I'm a sucker for the teeth.

I was watching him with his friends, his hair blowing in the wind, his feet gracefully wandering around in the crisp snow.

And I knew that I had to make him mine.

He doesn't yet have a name. Or if he ever did, I won't likely know it. But I can come up with a new name for him. Provided he lets me catch him out in the pasture.

He's a rescue pony who I met while visiting Tia at her boyfriend's house. Well, I guess its her boyfriend's barn, but I digress.

And I know. I'm supposed to be making wise financial decisions. I'm supposed to be saving up for my next car, spending on things that are only necessities, hoarding my money like crazy old ladies hoard cats.

But this is a horse we're talking about. Only crazy people go around buying horses, and who is writing this blog?

The craziest one of them all.

I'm daydreaming all kinds of wonderful things about this pony. Maybe I can make him mine, train him up, and sell him next year. Maybe he will steal my heart and I'll keep him forever. Maybe I'll try to catch him in his pasture, he'll turn his hind legs towards me, and send me flying across the yard.

Who knows?

But I'm going back to examine him again tomorrow, because I can't stop thinking about that pretty little pony. If you know me at all, you know that once I get a thought in my head, it generally needs to be kicked several times in succession before the thought is gone.

I'm blaming this one on the Big Crazy. There is simply no other explanation.