36 hours in the life of ...

Here is a rundown of my last 36 hours --

Friday
6:00 a.m. -- awaken, morning routine
8:00 a.m. -- leave for work, get stopped by random train downtown
8:38 a.m. -- arrive to work (late). get ushered into my new "office" upstairs.
8:45 a.m. - 4:36 p.m. -- proofread cement prices, finish cement press release, proofread principal website, write copy for principal leadership website main page
4:36 p.m. -- Boss is shocked that I finished last project in less than 20 minutes. She tells me to leave. I do, gladly.
5:00 - 7 p.m. -- Home. Family leaves for three days in Arkansas after a two-hour goodbye ceremony (involving multiple reentrances for bathroom breaks, pillows, medicine and chocolate cake (Lexie)).
7:20 p.m. -- shower.
7:40 p.m. -- Carly picks me up. We drive to Barnes and Noble, where we meet with a friend who I haven't spoken with in two years. This wasn't a case of busy schedules not matching up. This was a case of purposeful avoidance on both of our parts.
8:10 p.m. - 10:52 p.m. -- Perry arrives. Meetup goes swimmingly. Girl stands up to leave. We hug. The olive branch has passed.
10:55 p.m. -- Sonic, to stave off Perry's hunger.
11:20 p.m. - 1 a.m. -- Carly's house. Try to get 1970s VCR to work. Fail. Go upstairs and watch 11-year-old Carly and her friend in a Six Flags' music video. Carly has her shorts hiked up to her chest. Oh, 1997. By popular vote, we choose Jumanji as our movie du jour.
1:04 a.m. -- Hug Perry goodbye. I won't see him till Christmas, as he leaves for Kenya tomorrow, and I'll be back at school when he returns for a few days before school starts up for him in London. Carly drives me home. Get out of car, dragging a garbage bag of clothes she wants me to try on. Walk in garage. See chicken roosting on four-wheeler gear shift. Curse loudly and throw garbage bag in house. Go back outside and look around for deadly weapon. Decide on Dad's driver, located in golf bag. Swat chicken off four-wheeler and out of garage (nicely). Comment on fact that my life resembles Sanford and Son. Collapse in bed.

Saturday
12:30 p.m. -- Good morning! Crawl out of bed. Have missed five phone calls at this point. Shower.
2:15 p.m. -- Come downstairs to eat lunch. Girl whose mom boards horses at our house is sitting at our kitchen table, drawing a picture with crayons. This is not unusual. She says it's for me. I ask her to hang it on the refrigerator. Girl asks to go play downstairs. I say, whatever. Doorbell rings. Girl's brothers. Each wants glass of water. Sigh.
2:45 p.m. -- Finally ready. Put on shoes to go. Amy and I are heading out back door. Doorbell rings. Girl asks if she can answer it. I say yes, since it's probably for her anyway. I talk her through the deadbolt. Door swings open. Boys run in yelling - CALL 911! Our mom fell off a horse! I am the practical one. I open my mouth to ask further questions, and Scott grabs the phone and dials 911. Then he hands it to me and settles back into his Lifetime movie. Dispatcher asks what happened. I tell her that a woman fell off a horse. Then she starts asking specifics. I have no idea, obviously, as I haven't seen her yet. Somehow her sons, who are about 12 and 15, are unsure as to whether she's conscious. That was frustrating.

Hang up phone. Scott says, "At least pretend like you care." I glare at him. Contemplate running down to the barn to check on her or attacking him with the blender. I choose to go down to the barn, leaving Concerned Brother to his TV movie.

Horse Lady is laying in the pasture, sitting with her head in her hands. I'll be honest - my first thought was, She's sitting up and I just called 911?! She couldn't stand up, she said, because she was too dizzy. EMT arrives in a pickup truck, wearing a black wifebeater. Two ambulances arrive minutes later. Neighbors appear from their houses. I meet the new neighbors next door. Horse lady is placed on a board. She is not happy, and keeps wanting to stand up. She tries and then starts to fall. She then throws up, multiple times. Her 6-year-old daughter, the one who drew me the picture, stands by making helpful comments like, "Mom, that saddle needs a seatbelt!" and "I think that horse needs a timeout." Her brothers tell her to shut up. An EMT asks the oldest son what he thought happened to the horse. "He spooked!" he replied. "It could have been the chickens -- or the sheep!" Sheep? Is this really my life?

I wander over to the fence, where my sister Amy is talking to the two neighbor kids. We watch respectfully as the EMTs work to tear my dad's fence apart. I shudder. "Ashley, what are we supposed to do?" Amy whispers. "I don't know," I whisper back. "Mom only left us instructions on how to do the laundry."

EMTs convince Horse Lady to go to the hospital. Another EMT drives Horse Lady's van with her four kids. They leave. The neighbors leave. Tranquility is restored.

Amy and I walk back up the house. I begrugdingly whine, "All I wanted was to go to the library today." That seemed to sum up our afternoon.

4:10 p.m. -- Arrive at library, armed with summer reading list I made during work the previous day. Check out The Alchemist, A Tale of Two Cities, Persuasion and Northanger Abbey. Soooo excited to start reading them! Amy and I walked out to the car. We were about to pull away when I looked to my right and saw a familiar-looking woman in the car next to me. "Hey," I said, "Isn't that the lady who always walked around undressed in the women's changing room at the pool?" The lady straightened up in her chair so we got the full-on profile look. Confirmed. She looks a lot different with clothes on.
4:30-5:30 p.m. -- church.
6:00 p.m. -- Amy and I made dinner - pasta with broccoli, yum!
7:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m. -- video store

Annnd... Horse Lady just called and her tests came back OK. Yay!