All I want is to be outside. I want to cut the grass and prune the bushes and dig up the ugly ground cover I planted last year that is brown and straggly and taking over the world. I want to rake up the dead leaves and chop down dead bushes and cut back the hydrangeas and plant coreopses and turn on the hose and revel in this most welcome late-blooming, finally burgeoning, amazingly gorgeous spring. A half-hour. One hour at the most. Then I'll come in and do all I have to do. I'll rake just one flower bed. I'll pull just a few weeds. I'll be finished by nine. It won't even make a dent in my day.