horsin’ around


What do we do when we fall off the horse, kids?

We get back on.

I’ve always wondered about this. Have any of you ever actually fallen off a horse? I have not. But I imagine if I did, after I hit the ground,  waited for the blinding pain to cease, dusted myself off, and haphazardly checked for broken bones, that the last thing on earth I would want to do would be to hop back in the saddle for a nice little trot through the orchard. Seriously, dude. I just fell off a horse here. Give me a break.

Put on your Metaphor glasses for a moment. In the past two years, I have fallen off the horse, gotten back on, fallen off, gotten back on, fallen off, been trampled. gotten back on, fallen off, been kicked heartily in the face by horse, gotten back on, and fallen off again. After taking a victory lap around me as if I was a giant, decorative barrel, the horse seems to have galloped off into the sunset, never  to be heard from again.

I have never been one to throw in the towel. I am not apathetic. I do my best to remain motivated. But I think my point about the horse thing is that. . . it’s crazy. Einstein is credited with the thought that insanity is ‘doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result’. Well, if that’s the case, then fit me for one of those exceedingly uncomfortable and impractical white linen coats. Because I’m there, buddy.

horseless carriage

I guess what I’m ready for is something new. Not more of the same. I have tried the same sites, the same jobs, the same contacts, the same network, and the same ‘advocates’ over and over. If any of those people worked for a pizza chain, I would have 100 free pies by now. None of them seem able to deliver. I have not lost my grit, not my determination. Just my inspiration. I need a spark. A new direction, an innovation.

Equestrianism is clearly not my scene. I’m ready for the Model-T.

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