The day's end

Okay, so I'll tell you part of the reason why I've been in a no-good, awful, horrible mood today, but you have to PROMISE not to laugh. At least, not so loudly that I can hear you.

I'm blaming my misery on Oprah. Well, not directly on Oprah, perhaps more on her producers. I got my hopes up--ridiculously so--and then as the days have crept by since April 14th I've become more resigned to my fate. My fate, that is, of not being chosen. Even though I was not entitled to being chosen, I was still just hoping a tiny bit that I would be. The whole thing is proof positive that I am not getting enough sleep. Also, being spit up on half a dozen times a day appears to be taking its toll. It is the only way to explain how insanely and oddly disappointed I am right now.

Perhaps I should explain.

Several weeks ago I wandered by Oprah's site and saw that she was having a contest that made my heart beat just a little bit faster. It was contest for a backyard makeover. Oh. my. goodness. gracious. This was my chance.

If you've been around here long enough you enough that our backyard is a disaster. There was a pool, now there's a pit. There was grass, now there's mud. There was prettiness, and now it's the reason I don't raise the curtains on my windows anymore. To be fair, it was third in my list of priorities of change. First the wood floors. Then the leather couches. Check, and check. Third on the to-do list: backyard.

Still waiting.

Even though there are some minor repairs I could do to curb the catastrophe of the backyard, so much of it revolves around the deck being fixed. I'm not keen on planting pretty pretty flowers and lovely green grass only to have them smushed to a certain death when the deck is repaired. I have, therefore, been waiting. Not patiently (ask Jason and he'll vouch for that character flaw) but waiting nonetheless. The tax refund brought me hope, but then an unforeseen money issue came up and *poof* tax refund gone. Backyard repair postponed indefinitely.

So I got out the video camera. I wrote the script. I edited the video. I sent it off to the powers that be at Harpo Productions in Chicago. I prayed fervently that someone would take pity on me. Heck, I had plenty of pity to loan them from my own personal stash. I figured I had a 1 in 500 chance of getting it. I have no scientific basis for those odds; I just pulled them out of the air. The contest ended April 14th. The winner would be contacted by the producers by April 24th.

I know, I know. There's still time. My phone could ring tomorrow. Possibly. Maybe.

Probably not.

I mean, really. Who calls with good news on a Tuesday? No one. Unless you were born on a Tuesday, in which case everyone that your parents called would have received good news because you being born is worth of the "good news" classification. OTHER THAN birth announcements, Tuesdays are not inspiring. They are the sophomores of the week. Not new; not old. Just passing time.

I realize how silly I was to get my hopes up. But you have to understand how much the problem of the backyard weighs on me. I'm at the point where I'd consider selling our house just so I could get a new backyard, that's how desperate I am. I would even sell the car and ride the bus for the next year just to be able to go outside with the girls and not panic that Sydney will fall off the deck. If you're thinking it's a matter of hard work and *presto* the yard will be fixed, that's not the case. It's a matter of money.

In all seriousness, I'll be okay. There are worse things than not having a backyard. People all over the world don't have backyards, and they are perfectly happy. I realize how shallow it seems to be so worked up over a patch of weeds and few splinters. I know I'm an idiot for not wanting to invite people over simply because our backyard isn't up to par. It's a character flaw that needs work.

Until I become a better and more mature person who focuses her energy on real problems, rather than petty ones, I'm working through my disappointment.

Maybe, eventually, I'll even forgive Oprah. I'm not perfect though. It could take awhile.

Comments

[becca banana]

I'm right there with you on the yard frustration. Only it's our front and back "yard" that are an embarrassing mix of mud, weeds, and sadness. Sometimes I long to move to any apartment complex just so I don't have to do anything about that dang yard.

[karen]

Kay, this is the deal, we swap husbands, mine works on your yard, your on ours?? :) You think it would work? I always think it is more fun to clean others houses then my own boring everyday mess. Maybe the guys are the same. IF Oprah does call, send her over this way.

[mopsy]

MAYBE it will be one of those shows where Oprah HERSELF shows up on your doorstep. You will be shocked to see Her Highness. You'll sheepishly lead her to your yard, where she'll declare you have the perfect example of a pitiful mess. An army of landscapers bearing trees, bushes, flowers of all colors, rocks, etc. will mobilize in a frenzy of outdoor improvement. Then you'll be wisked to Chicago, given a haircut (all her guests get their hair redone), and put on live TV to marvel at what just occured.

Keeping everything crossed for you.

P.S. I won't go into detail, but I won a sweepstakes once and they do call on Tuesdays. Seriously.

[Margaret]

I get like that too-over clutter on the counter, clothes all over the bathroom, etc...It's not silly to be bothered by it. It's normal!

[Leslie]

Amen, amen! I have the yard frustration too. Mine is front, back, side, and all over the place. We work and work on it, but it is just not done (and won't be for a few more years). Here's to hoping that the call does come today.

[raehan]

We've been in our house for three years and are just now able to finish the landscaping. Enjoy your wood floors, and leather couch, and know that your yard will be there...some day.

But yes, a makeover from Oprah would be awesome. I can understand how you feel.

[alida]

I had to laugh out loud, really loud. Not at you, at the joy of knowing I am not alone. Just this morning I told Sergio my brillant plan about selling our house for $100,000.00 more than we bought it for and moving to your neck of the woods. To a house that needs no new floors, or landscaping or such. Imagine my surprise when he seemed annoyed. (Granted he had a big job interview this morning, but I was just thinkning out loud) Some people! So I'm with you girl in spirit and impatience. Hang in there!