As if the cow(s) weren't enough. Really. This is bordering on pathological. This morning, instead of, oh, I don't know...reading the third Internal Medicine text I've purchased now under the auspices of both Board Review and Not Looking Like a Total Jackass Every Morning During Rounds I am, instead, looking at horses for sale in New Hampshire.
Why lord, why?
Why did you plague me with such a dogged, obsessed brain? Because you know what? It's not just the horses. Or the cows. Or the three sheep I keep threatening to obtain. Or the farm house we're going to put them all in. Assuming I don't actually expire from the cold or get sucked into a mud pit and thereby proclaim that our own little episode of Green Acres is officially fin, it will never just be cows. Or the horses. Or the sheep. I can assure you. Soon it will be the green house. And the garden. And the organic vegetable patch. And the tractor. And the 3,000 bulbs I want to plant every winter and the stalls and training for my highly anticipated Olympic return to Stadium Jumping (snort) and not, say, my red hot career as Pediatric-Neonatal-Internal Medicine-Emergency-Oncology bad ass PA.
Underscored completely by the fact that it is now 7:15am and I have yet to leave the house. Maybe this New Hampshire business is a bad plan. Staying in New York where the only significant distractions are my close proximity to Aveda and J. Crew may not be so devestating after all.
Why lord, why?
Why did you plague me with such a dogged, obsessed brain? Because you know what? It's not just the horses. Or the cows. Or the three sheep I keep threatening to obtain. Or the farm house we're going to put them all in. Assuming I don't actually expire from the cold or get sucked into a mud pit and thereby proclaim that our own little episode of Green Acres is officially fin, it will never just be cows. Or the horses. Or the sheep. I can assure you. Soon it will be the green house. And the garden. And the organic vegetable patch. And the tractor. And the 3,000 bulbs I want to plant every winter and the stalls and training for my highly anticipated Olympic return to Stadium Jumping (snort) and not, say, my red hot career as Pediatric-Neonatal-Internal Medicine-Emergency-Oncology bad ass PA.
Underscored completely by the fact that it is now 7:15am and I have yet to leave the house. Maybe this New Hampshire business is a bad plan. Staying in New York where the only significant distractions are my close proximity to Aveda and J. Crew may not be so devestating after all.
