The Dollar Weed Therapy

If I had a dollar for every dollar weed I ever pulled up, I'd be a billionaire. Then, I wouldn't have to pull up dollar weeds at all.

Esme was the one who suggested as a remedial anger-relieving program. I wouldn't go to a therapist, so she dragged me to her backyard and engaged me in weed-pulling. She has this entire colony of dollar weeds under her rose bushes and all around, forming a cheerful carpet of green over the red mulch. 

The thing about weeding, though, is once you start, it's hard to stop. It brings out the OCD in me. I have learned to hate weeds with a fiery passion, especially the round green sprouts that have translucent white roots: the dollar weed.

There is something satisfying about pulling up a dollar weed. Maybe it's because if you do it right, they come out in long snakes, all at once. It's something about power, I think. Like you're in power of your life when you can pull a weed out of the ground all at once. Like victory is achieved when you rip them out of the ground. Yep; something about power.

So to all who have no control over their lives, I suggest this:

Go find some dollar weeds. Pull most of them up. Wait for them to grow back. Repeat steps two and three.

Trust me. It'll be a novel experience.