Today I felt an irresistible urge to get busy.
If you know what I mean.
It was the kind of day when you look around at the world and say “World, I have an itch you need to scratch.”
Emily was at work, the kids were at daycare, and I didn’t have to sit all alone in my office grading exams. So, I thought, why not make a little magic happen? Why not do something that’s perfectly natural? I’m sure millions of people do it all the time without worrying.
If you know what I mean.
So, I stole out of the office and started driving home, but then it occurred to me that I might not have all of the, uh, enhancements and tools that my, uh, chore, required.
If you know what I mean.
Well, let’s not call it a chore. I mean, it’s very, very satisfying even though it’s more than a little dirty and sweaty.
If you know what I mean.
So, I stopped at a business that sells the, uh, accoutrements for the job I had planned. It’s kind of specialized. The employees of the establishment could see my need in my sparkling eyes, and they pointed me in the direction of the proper, uh, helpers.
If you know what I mean.
I was kind of overwhelmed at the selection. There were so many choices, and options, and things called “˜spreaders’ were lying around and they just looked diabolically awesome…well, I just started to think I might have underestimated the possibilities here. I mean, sure, I could just go home and start getting dirty but from what all of the, uh, packages, were telling me, that was no guarantee that I’d achieve satisfactory, uh, growth. I’ve had failures before.
If you know what I mean.
In fact, it looked like my little itch had steered me a bit wrongly: Rather than a solo effort, for best results, do it with a partner.
If you know what I mean.
But Emily was at work. I tried calling her, to see what she thought about, uh, lending me a hand (if you know what I mean), but she didn’t answer.
Well, I gave her a chance.
I know what you’re thinking: “Dude, how can you even think about going outside of your marriage just to satisfy your dirty mind?” Well, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. I have needs.
So, I booted up the computer and went to a website…no, not a video or picture site, although those are uh, inspirational, but a site where you can contact professionals to help with urges like the one I was having. If you’re thinking that it sounds like a waste of money to pay for something that I can do for free, well, let me remind you that the job I had in mind now involved things like the Spreader. It was no longer as simple as just whipping out the hose and squeezing the nozzle.
If you know what I mean.
But the cost of help looked prohibitive, and while there are cheaper alternatives to finding someone on a website, (I think you can just flash some green at the pros standing on corners outside of places like the specialty store I went to earlier and someone will hop in your car and go home with you), I really wanted to be able to know and trust whoever I partnered up with.
If you know what I mean.
So, sitting home alone it looked like my options were pretty pathetic. Emily was at work, and I couldn’t afford a pro. I suppose I could have tried to get to know the neighbours a bit and then invited them over for a dirty afternoon. But it’s just not the kind of thing you can ask your new neighbours. I mean, what do you say? “Hey, you look like you’re in pretty good shape. And you look like you don’t mind getting down on your hands and knees and taking care of business. How about bringing your strong back and and firm grip over to my place for some exercise?” It’s just not cool.
If you know what I mean.
My spirits were at half-mast and I resolved to, uh, sow my seed all on my own. But I wasted all afternoon thinking about how awesome the experience would be if I did it right, and I had run out of time to even do it cheaply.
So, my day ended with my needs unfulfilled. I should have just taken matters into my own hands from the start.
If you know what I mean.
But to the limited extent that I did take matters into my own hands today I ended up jumping the gun and, uh, let’s just say that I’m a premature lawn saturator.
If you know what I mean.
(Editor’s Note: If you don’t know what I mean, then (1) That’s awesome. And (2) I mean that I spent my afternoon trying to figure out how to turn my front yard into a nice, green, grassy lawn. But all I accomplished was to buy a sprinkler head to water a lawn I don’t have. Yay me.)