Looking at patio furniture late at night makes me suicidal.

Tessa sits down on a beige aluminum lawn chair in the dark on the back porch, and surveys her yard. Her creation, partly illuminated in an artificial blue haze by 24 solar powered LED lights winding along the perimeter.

The landscape had completely changed: The garden was dugout and replaced by an in-ground pool + pool shed + patio + patio furniture set recommended by a home and gardening magazine. The tiered flower beds were erased in order for the backyard kitchen to be built + a new BBQ grill for her husband + BBQ utensils. Circles of slate were swapped for a cobblestone path. A new aluminum fence was erected.  And the two 18 year old miniature conifer trees were ripped out of the ground for a pool heater.

It’s perfect.

At least in her mind.

And the interior (knick-knacks, décor, appliances, and husband) would still be up to date for the next five years. And that includes every season.

But its completion left her with nothing to do.

The only genre of literature she was into was home and gardening magazines.

The only tv she watched was home and gardening shows.

Same with the internet.

And her husband took care of the maintenance duties while getting drunk on canned light beer, which leaves virtually no time for maintaining a healthy relationship + her two children have grown up and moved away.

Tessa nuzzles her shoulder blades into the malleable plastic material, which is weather resistant, trying to make herself comfortable.

Boredom.

She opens up a bottle of box wine and slugs it straight from the tap while popping two bars of anti-anxiety medication.

Admiring.

Hating.

Admiring.

Hating.

Tessa looks at the inflatable pool toys (a yellow duck with black and blue eyes, a pink translucent beach ball, and a couple of neon green and yellow rings) skimming across the dark reflective surface of the water. Chaotically. Randomly bumping into each other.

She takes another hit of the wine, shakes her head from one side to the other, and thinks:

“Looking at patio furniture late at night makes me suicidal.”