Pete and I arrived home at 2 a.m. He cleaned up after the horses and I went inside, set my gear down, and grabbed some food. The mid-day first class meal had been my only meal of the day. I don’t eat airport food – it’s all empty calories. I usually bring food with me, but I did not have time when in Buffalo to pick anything up.

Pete had to teach today, so I got up when he did, at 8:30 a.m. I first let the goats out of their pen, and together we raced down to the horse paddock and let the horses out. They all rushed out – Raudi did pause and say hello. She had not been taken out, as had the others, in my absence. I sensed she was glad to see me.

The remainder of the day was taken up with things that needed to be done, pronto. I refused to let myself feel overwhelmed in going over my mental list. And I didn’t dwell on the fact that I wouldn’t be able to get everything done.

At some point it occurred to me that acting upon responsibilities and also prioritizing them is what it means to be an adult. I’ve never been good at being an adult, and in fact I think it sucks. I still am unable to accept the fact that it is an adult’s lot in life to do mundane tasks and to do so with considerable cheer. P-tooey.

A case in point, this morning I did not unpack, as I should have. Nor did I do the dishes. And I assured Pete as he headed out the door that I’d put the potatoes that were on the floor of my cabin into bins and put the bins in the root cellar and pull the carrots. Did I do any of this? No. I instead communed with all our animals, including our four horses.

The horses were as appreciative as horses can be, which is somewhat appreciative. They’re maybe glad I’m home because they will now get more attention. Horse lovers would say that my actions were indicative of the fact that, yes, I’m a very responsible adult. Non-horse lovers would merely roll their eyes. I guess it depends on what side of the fence you are on in determining priorities.

Maybe I can get a vest that has written on the back ADULT IN TRAINING. This would be akin to having a Student Driver car sign in the rear of one’s vehicle. The analogy is this – those around me would be more empathetic and perhaps even helpful in assisting me in determining what in life is important and not important when they saw the signage.

What to do? Really. The most logical thing of all is to just accept the fact that at heart, I’m 12 years old and that I am always going to be 12 years old. And furthermore, if anyone knowing this brought this into question, I’ll simply say “take it or leave it.”

Next: 292. 10/19/18: Living the Dream