An amateur gardener for Mrs Daffodil

Mrs Daffodil didn't keep her promise. As if doing this favor on a day where all the people I know are somewhere chillier and fresher and nicer isn't enough, she forgot to pick me up. I need to be picked up, come on. Where does a girl with bad money management and no decent cunning bitchy self-indulgent high brow boyfriend skills go other than... doing even the gardening for her neighbor's friend. My neighbor said that the job would be easy money and good for me and my spirits, and my eyes. Stay far from the screen. Be in touch with nature. Make some money in the meantime. She knows I need it desperately. If I want green and peacefulness, I know where to go. This isn't the place.

My neighbor lent me the mower which we took to Mrs Daffodil's house when she dropped me at her house this morning. And she promised that Mrs Daffodil would pick me up when I finish. She had an assignment – who has assignments nowadays – far from town and it would be the perfect day for... gardening. Call it gardening! I feel like a total jerk, a piece of soil, a smashing pumpkin, an exploded watermelon, a broken glass of a crystal blue-cyanic summer drink on someone's deck.

Everything hurts. I'm supposed to get paid, and I had to get everything on the train. The underground... the mower and me. How insane. Pants all swathed with sloppy patches of green and yellow, thatch dropping, traces of my whereabouts and my destiny on the train, the platform, the minds of onlookers. Someone even wanted to take a picture. Not of me. Just the mower, the bin – I must make a stop to throw everything away as the bins were too far from Mrs Daffodil's house – and my military bag. Don't ask me about the military bag.

An amateur gardener for Mrs Daffodil

This isn't me but, sadly, it is. I got to go home. I have to speak with Mrs Daffodil at once. My neighbor was very sorry for how it all went. She said things will get better for me. A little sweat, some practice, you will get there. She doesn't even do her own gardening.