Attack of the Weedwacker

Brian usually took care of the outside of the house. One of his many nicknames was "Harry Homeowner". Now that I have to do everything, I decided to get some fresh air (anyone feel the humidity lately?) and weedwack the front yard. The last time I was outside walking Daisy, I looked at all of the other yards and they were all in a state of perfection. I looked at my yard, and saw how my entire life felt in a small parcel of grass. It looked devilish and unkempt and in need of a trim. I grabbed the rake and the weedwacker from the shed, once I checked for wasps, bees, and anything else moving faster than I do.
I took everything out front, getting a little giddy on the inside since I was going to be playing with a type of power tool.

I first had to rake, about 30 minutes I had a large bag of leaves collected and my back already hurt and I was tired. I looked at the weed whacker and wasn't so giddy inside, maybe a little sick to my stomach. I took a break and hydrated myself.

I went back outside and started balding, I mean weed whacking the grass.

It was bad.
I think I will be hiring someone to do this for me.

I am the cook and cleaner, not the lawnmower man...

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