It's a beautiful day out - the sun is shining, it's in the low 70's, perfect for doing lawnwork. Let me go to the shed, pull out the huge box of outdoor toys (the box which is made of leftover plywood from the hurricanes, the box which weighs more than the entire shed and gives splinters at the merest brush of flesh against it), wiggle the lawnmower out of its corner. Start it up, well try. Nearly rench my arm out of it's socket as I continously pull the start string. Finally get it going, only to run out of gas. No problem, I'll just refill the tank with the spare - oh it's empty. It's blade needs to be sharpened anyway and I can't figure out if clockwise or counterclockwise to loosen it.
Well, I'll weedwhack instead. After throwing the weedwhacker to the ground out of frustration (you need longer arms than mine to use it's start string), realize it's out of gas as well. It's spare tank is too. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Maybe I'll just sit and enjoy my flowers. The grass will be here tomorrow.