Sometimes the efficiency bites me in the

Ass.

Well to be honest--more than sometimes. At least half the time. Maybe 68% of the time.

I have had a crazy weekend so far, including my one authorized beer drinking day of my diet, which commenced at Tracy's last nite. In the middle of it, her dog Mercedes went into labor and we had to take her to the vet for a C-section, that I got to be in. It was cool. We got three pretty baby boys we named Ozzy, Axl and Bon Jovi.

But since I am efficient, I packed my purse with cold beer, thinking I would entertain myself during the surgery. Yes, I am just that kind of hillbilly, which should not surprise you by now. My plan did not happen, obviously. And by the time we got back, my beer was not cold. So that was one example of my multi-tasking going awry.

But that was not what I started out to tell you. What I was going to tell you was what happened to me tonight. After a hard day at the gym that may have crippled me for life, I did not get to the farm to water until 6:15. Because it is freezing cold, I have to roll up the water hose and bring it home to live in the laundry room shower to keep it from turning to solid ice--and then I have to load it up in the car, drive it over there, unroll 100 feet of hose, and put it in a water trough.

So I did that. Unrolled it, put it in trough, then turned on the water. I turned Playmate out from her dinner stall, and decided to go to the gas station to get Powerade Zero and a news paper while the first trough ran. Each trough takes anywhere from 17 -25 minutes to fill, depending on how many horses are drinking out of it while it fills. I like to entertain myself as they fill, and I had already fed the horses, so what else was I going to do?

Off I drove to the gas station, got some blue Powerade Zero and some orange kind too, and realized I cannot find my debit card, then drove by someone's house to see if they were home yet, and went back to the farm. It had been 23 minutes and I was congratulating myself on how efficient I am.

Off I march, in the snow, in the dark, to move the hose from this trough to another trough--and as I got there, I promptly fell on my ass and cracked my head on the concrete. And no, the snow is not really slippy because it is pretty dry. The hose had fallen out of the trough--more likely knocked, although I do not know how since the trough is right up against the gate, but whatever--so the water had gone all over the concrete. 150 gallons of water probably, all frozen like a skating rink, both outside the pasture and inside where the horses come to drink.

And since it was snowy, now I had snow on my yoga pants and my t-shirt to go with my wet-tennis shoes. And perhaps a bloody noggin. AND, even worse, I had to still fill up that first trough, because none of the water had gone in it.

An hour later, I was still there, still filling troughs and freezing through my clothes. I even wore a coat this time, and it did not help a bit.

Nothing is ever easy in my world.