South of Sunnyside

I finally broke down. I just can’t take it any longer.

On Saturday morning, a man by the name of Jose will come to look at our yard. He comes highly recommended, and we have hopes that he’ll transform our back yard from a weed-infested, patchy jungle, into a paradise. Or at least something more than what it is (which shouldn’t take much).

The machismo inside of me holds strong; it’s taken me three years to give in/up, but I know that the decision to outsource will ultimately benefit the marriage. Yeah, that’s it—I’m doing it for Kim.

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