Do you smell something foul? Oh that's just me. Because I just got out of my car.

Now that we've started this I didn't want to bore you by not posting on only the second day.  So instead I'll bore you with a post.  And it will be filled with grammatical errors because I'm definitely no June Gardens.

As I mentioned yesterday, I just bought a house 6 months ago.  I've never owned a house before.  That means I've never owned a yard and I've pretty much decided that owning a yard sucks.  I want it to be pretty but I hate sweating and bugs.  I don't really consider myself a girly girl except for the hating sweating and bugs part.

And snakes.  I really hate those.  (I had to kill one in my driveway a few weeks ago with one arm in a cast.  It involved beating it with a big stick until it bled and then I ran over it with my car.  Then I was grossed out, left it in the middle of my driveway, went to work, and thankfully something must have eaten it while I was at work because it was most definitely dead and squished when I left for work, but gone when I got home.  I also spent a whole bunch of money getting squirrels out of my attic, replacing the siding they had chewed holes in, and having my house sealed up.  Maybe one of those squirrels ate the snake since they could no longer eat my house.)

Okay, so I hate sweating, bugs and snakes.  And roaches.  OMG, hate roaches.  And I think I started off writing a post about yard work but now I've started listing all the things I hate.  Quite honestly there is not enough space on the entire internet to list all of the things I hate so I should get back on topic.

Yard work.  Hate it too.  At least I did a couple of months ago.  That may have been because I had a cast on my arm, I bought a retro manual mower because my yard is the size of a postage stamp and a gas or electric mower seemed a bit ridiculous, I had to push it around one handed, I've pulled weeds for hours because my house was a foreclosure and had been a bit neglected, I've raked one handed, and I shoveled approximately 347,952 pounds of potting soil out of three brick planters with one hand.  And I declared yard work as horrid.  And I quickly added it to my gigantic list of things I hate.  But now I'm getting to the planting pretty stuff part and it's, um, less horrid.  Still not any barrel of fun for me, but less horrid.  If the bugs and sweating would end I might enjoy it the tiniest bit.  Maybe.  No, I probably wouldn't actually enjoy it but might hate it the slightest bit less.

A lady I work with has a side business helping people with yard work and landscaping.  She's come over 3 times to help me.  And she keeps convincing me to spend a lot of money I don't really have.  On yard work supplies.  Which I hate.

She's coming over this weekend to help me plant the $783703284 worth of flowers I've bought at her suggestion which I will then pay $26947045984305800 in water bills to keep alive.

She asked me to get a few more flowers.

And she told me to buy some compost.

I have physical therapy 3 nights this week after work and a few other things going on so I had to go on the only free evening I had to get the yard stuff.  Which was Wednesday.

I went to Home Depot and got all of the plants, flowers, bug spray, hose reels and tools I could fit in my cart and then headed to the check out.  I asked the cashier if she could add on 3 bags of compost, explained that I'm recovering from a broken arm and under doc's orders not to lift more than 5 pounds right now and asked if she could have someone help me load the compost in my car.

I pulled up to the sidewalk as she instructed me to and she said as the guy was walking over to me, "he may need to see your receipt."  He approached me and held up 3 fingers.  I said, "yes - 3 bags please.  Do you need to see my receipt?"  And he stared at me as though I have 8 heads.  So I asked again, "do you need to see my receipt?"  He just stared.  I asked him two more times.  He continued to stare.  Finally the cashier yelled, "HE'S DEAF!  HE CAN'T HEAR YOU!" and I felt like an idiot.

And then I drove home, pulled in the garage, opened the back of my SUV and realized I really am an idiot.  I can't unload the compost as it didn't magically become less than 5 pounds when I got home.  It's approaching 90 degrees here in Atlanta this week.

Animal poop/who-knows-what-else + hot = very, very bad.

And that is why I will be driving around in a car that smells like carp (literally) for 4 days.

Updated:  Last night on my way home from an event, I stopped at the grocery store and one thing I got was toilet paper.  I couldn't carry it and my other stuff in one trip and, being lazy, I left it in my car.  On top of the compost.  So if you come over to visit me, I now have pre-scented toilet paper ready for you!