The other day, just as I normally do, I hopped on the mower to cut the grass and gain a little therapy for the soul.
The sun was shining, the birds were frolicking, and the mower was going straight. All was right with the world . . . until I was finishing my final lap.
Wait, something was missing. Where was the sweet smell of the freshly cut grass??
Somehow, in my hasty preparation routine, I had forgotten to lower the deck on the mower. My therapy session went from fast and flashy to futile and frustrating in two seconds flat.