Today I decided to mix up my exercise routine (which usually consists of either walking on the treadmill in the garage or walking the track down the street) and walked to some of the other housing developments in our general vicinity. I'm highly nosy, and like to see how people decorate their yards.
I was amazed at the number of houses that seemed to just not give two shits what the outside of their home looked like. There were a lot that looked really nice, who had pretty palms and flowers, don't get me wrong. And I can only assume that the 20+ houses who leave their garage door open about a foot do it because they have a cat. If I was a burglar (and I'm not sure why my mind thinks like this), I could totally shimmy me and my ghetto booty under that door and be in their house, lickety split.
When I got home 2.5 miles later, I tried to look objectively at my own house, and see what others would see through their eyes. Ummm, yeah, I'm an ass...the grass needs to be cut, I need to de-leaf the landscaping, weed out the old dead shit, etc. It's not that bad, but bad enough to where Addison and I will be spending some time on it this weekend. I hate doing yard work. Adam and Addison do the yard work. The inside is my job.
It's about time I stop pretending like there is no outside of the house and take care of it. Adam's not here, and hasn't been for weeks and weeks and weeks. Thank God Addison asks if he can mow. Do it to it, Boy.