Guilt

A feeling of having done wrong or failed in an obligation.

For such a tiny word, guilt sure packs a powerful punch, and I feel it right in the gut.  I know there's no need to feel guilty for skipping my daily barn visit, but even so, the feeling is there.  I know it is impossible to visit the barn 365 days a year, and RM is a very capable barn owner who will check on my boys very carefully in the afternoon as will L, our evening feeder.  But still ... I feel as though I've done something wrong and I certainly feel as though I've failed my two lonely boys who are no doubt waiting patiently (or un-patiently in Speedy's case) at the gate wondering where on earth I am.  How long will they stand there?  Probably not very long.  Will there be whinnies?  No doubt a couple of plaintive ones from Speedy G.  How will I be greeted upon my return? More than likely the same as always.  

So, guilty feelings aside, skipping my barn visit means that ...

• several layers of really gross barn gunk have been removed from the interior of my car.
• two loads of laundry have swished and swashed though the washer.
• the ooey-gooey smudge on the 'fridge has been wiped away.
• that phone call to the dentist has been made.
• my desk is cleared off.
• last month's show ribbons have been hung and the tests have been placed in "the book".
• I took a relaxing soak in the tub.
• the bathroom is ready for today's assault.
• dinner was made without the usual frantic rush to get it finished.
• my dining room table can actually be used for dining.

Was it worth it?  Speedy, Sydney, and I don't think so, but hubby was no doubt grateful.  And really, visiting the barn only 364 days a year isn't all that bad.  Here's to happy hubbies!