Saddle Seat Wednesday
My transmogrification into a curmudgeon continues apace.
Several years ago, when I started spending weekends at saddle seat shows, I had hoped to share my hotel room. I would save money. I would get to Visit! With! People! I would be In! The! Thick! Of! Things!
Alas, saddle seat is a social sport. One family might have multiple generations showing. Another family might have one member showing but accompanied by everyone from youngest sibling to Grandma. Hotel rooms tended to have 3 to 4 people in them already. Saddened, I would slink off to my lonely room, convinced that no one loved me. (Insecure? Moi?) I had a serious case of FOMO.
These days, not so much.
I have come to appreciate a quiet room to myself. I don’t have to wear my social face. I can stress out at 3 am without disturbing anyone. I don’t have to endure disorganized packing habits. The best case was having friends in the next room. I had my own space, but also people who might notice when the ooze crept under the adjoining door.
Either way, please excuse me. I’m going go be alone for a while.
Thank you for reading,