Lawn Mowing Drama

I had a slight nervous breakdown two nights ago. I wish I could pass the blame onto someone else, but I can’t. I’m feeling very overwhelmed and hormonal lately. My lawn was so long that it just had to be mowed. It couldn’t be put off even one more day let alone a week and a half until Chase gets home. My brother-in-law (the one that doesn’t even live with me) took pity on me last time and I was eternally grateful (especially after I figured out how much work it is) but I know that he has a life of his own that doesn’t involve my lawn. I have seen 8 year olds mowing the lawn. It can’t be rocket science. So I headed out back determined to get it done. The whole experience got off to a rocky start because it took me a few minutes to figure out where we even keep the thing. I forgot that our lawn shed was filled with someone else’s junk (long story). When I tracked it down, I actually got it started. I was so proud of myself! But the grass was so long that it kept dying and everytime I did the pull motion to get it started, every single stomach muscle tightened and it was starting to become painful (which I will never admit out loud to anyone because I can mow the darn lawn). After three rows, it wouldn’t even start. I tried for 15 minutes and couldn’t even get it to putter. So I called Chase to talk me through some trouble shooting on the phone. Which he refused to do. Which completely set me off. He kept saying, “You’re not going to mow the lawn. Just let me take care of it.” At this point I’m not proud to admit that I said something to the effect of filing for divorce if he called anyone to help me and if he didn’t tell me what to do. WHY COULDN’T HE JUST TELL ME THAT THE STUPID THING NEEDED GAS!??! I actually did open the gas tank at one point and could see a small layer of gas and I had assumed that was enough. It turned out it wasn’t but I didn’t find that out until later in the evening. I thought it was something else. So I called my dad. He was very vague in his answers and kept saying it would help him out if he could come borrow our lawn mower the next day to mow his grass because his was acting up. And he would just mow our lawn to return the favor (which I found out later that his mower is just fine). At this point I was hysterical. I am not handicapped. I can mow the lawn. Izzy was just staring at me like I was crazy. Finally I told my dad not to worry about it and I would figure out something else. Within 10 minutes both my parents and Ben showed up to mow my lawn. I got the feeling that everyone thought I was taking some kind of passive aggressive approach to getting my lawn mowed. I really wasn’t. I was just trying to take control of something that needed to be done in my life. Ben got the lawn mower started with one pull, which made me cry again. But it promptly died because there wasn’t enough gas. So Ben went and got gas and took care of it. My parents took the baby home with them for the night (probably out of fear that I had mentally snapped) and I went to bed. But I was grateful that it got done and Ben did a wonderful job. All this drama over a dumb lawn. Apartment living is the life for me.