And it went a little something like this:
Self: Girl, I heard you threw yourself a party because you have too much blah.
Me: I'm tired of blah. Everything is brown, brown, brown. I miss my garden.
Self: Well, moaning and groaning about it isn't going to make spring come any sooner. At least you can find your garden! You know what I'm about to say...
Me: Hey, I'm still getting over the last can you opened on me. Put that away!
Self: Alright then, but you know what you need to do...
Self: Now get out there and find some beauty in all that blah. After all, your garden could look like this:
I bought these hyacinths on sale at the grocery store. It's like having spring on my windowsill.