John Deere is my therapist

Some stuff happened while I was working this weekend, followed by a Day Off But With Extra Stress Cheese because of some other personal stressy stuff, followed by a day back to work with even more stressful crap on a cracker to get me to peak disquietude. I do not let apprehension get to me all that much in the grand scheme, but all my anxiety and/or tension buttons have been pushed in the past few days all on top of each other and I DO NOT LIKE IT SAM I AM. I do not like it in a box, I do not like it with a fox, I do not like it with a ball, I do not like this shit at all.

So what did I do with this energy when I got home? I decided to mow my lawn. Now that I actually have a lawn, I have discovered that apparently I am a suburban dad of the 1950s because I am soothed by buzzcutting my grass. I don’t know what it is: maybe it’s the droning sound, maybe it’s the methodical back and forthness, maybe it’s the sense of getting something done. I am a grass chopping fool. In fact, after I mowed the yard today, I noticed that the clippings had stained the pair of Tom’s I was wearing, and I thought to myself: I really need to get myself a yard-mowing outfit.

Did you hear that? A YARD MOWING OUTFIT. What is happening to me, people? Even as I type this and scoff at my inner weirdo, there is still a part of me that thinks this is a great idea.

I think the stress of my week has wrung out my brain.

Advertisements

3 comments

  1. I had a roommate once who sneered about suburban males mowing and edging their lawns, how ridiculous and pointless it is. He believed it was the only area of their pathetic lives of quiet desperation where they could exercise some kind of control. I mow but I don’t edge. I mow because, yes, it’s one thing I can go outside and do in one swell foop and it is done, an achievement. I don’t edge because I’m kind of a Jed Clampett. Perfection just isn’t a priority. In my mind the lawn is just a big weed patch that is eventually going to be replaced with cool plants. We just haven’t gotten to it yet. I totally have a pair of shoes just for mowing.

  2. “only area of their pathetic lives of quiet desperation where they could exercise some kind of control” yeah, that was kind of me this week, dude.

  3. “I do not like it in a box, I do not like it with a fox, I do not like it with a ball, I do not like this shit at all.” This made me laugh out loud, alone in my office, in a super creepy (i’m sure to my coworkers) way. Thanks.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s