Everyone knows I’m always looking for opportunities to build up my resume. At this point, that thing is looking like a Bible, in the way that they’re both thiccc as heck and mostly bullshit. If you think those parables are a little far fetched, wait until you read my volunteer experience. Does wooing a homeless woman outside Ned Devines count as community service? It should.
Anyway, at this point in my life, my resume building has plateaued a bit. I’ve done what’s felt like a billion internships that I somehow keep sneaking my way into. I’m a member of several clubs, most (all) of which I haven’t attended in several years. Sorry, Finance and Investment club, not trying spend my Thursday nights shooting the shit about derivatives. Move the meeting to OHE and maybe we’ll talk. That being said I’m always available to do a guest speech about the finance side of T shirt and poster sales.
So most people at this point would call it a year, mail in the rest of their senior year, and start applying for jobs with the resume they have. Not me. I’m separating myself from the pack. Making HR departments buckle at the knees. Keeping managers on their toes and having them pack an extra pair of underwear to work. How did I do that, you might ask?
I filled out a little paperwork, called in some favors, shook a couple dirty hands, and as of yesterday, I am now licensed as a therapy horse in the state of Massachusetts. The moment I got the confirmation email was the happiest day of my life. A dream that I’ve had since as long as I could remember (two days ago when I saw a therapy dog and thought it would be funny to register myself) has finally come to fruition.
So what does this mean for me, legally speaking? A couple things. First, anyone can take me to their class or place of work, as long as I’m wearing a leash and a muzzle. The muzzle actually isn’t necessary, I’m just into that kind of stuff. The only downside is I can’t defecate inside, so that will take a bit of getting used to for me. You’re also responsible for cleaning up after me so bring a bag.
Secondly, in times of stress, I am now trained for people to hop on my back and ride me around. I’m not sure how that would make a situation better, but I’m down to give it a try. I’m actually work shopping a horse riding business, except its just me giving piggy backs. I could do birthday parties and field trips. I just picture some guy ordering a pony for his daughter’s 8th birthday, and I just show up hungover as shit with a saddle on my back. Talk about memories that will last forever.
I’ll also be getting a physical card in the mail soon, so I’ll now have another form of identification if I lose my license. I can’t wait to flash it to bouncers. I feel like a therapy horse license is even more legitimate than a passport.
The only issue I see here is the diet of a horse. From what I’ve seen, horses only eat carrots and hay. That’s going to have to change. I’m about to be the first horse to eat Hot Pockets on a daily basis.
So if you ever feel like you need a companion, or someone to help you navigate around on a day to day basis. Hit me up. Until then, catch me in a Budweiser Clydesdale commercial next Sunday.