I'm not sure where the roll of duct tape landed when I flung it across the yard. Wait, let's go back to the beginning. No, that's too painful. Let's go back to the middle.

It's a good thing I'm persistent. If I weren't persistent, I wouldn't keep trying to make things work, even in the face of overwhelming evidence that the harder I try, the more spectacularly I fail.

It's a good thing I'm patient. If I weren't patient, every setback would make me question whether it's all worth it. Every time I fall short, I'd see it as a good enough reason not to take the next step, or try another way to make it all work.

It's a good think I'm flexible. If I weren't flexible, I wouldn't keep trying to think of new ways to attack the problem. I might let the first step in the wrong direction keep me from trying different approaches. I'd probably be so blinded by failure that I wouldn't consider the possibility of success.

It's a good thing I'm dedicated. My dedication to the task at hand is sometimes the only thing that keeps me from throwing up my hands and crying that it can't be done. If it must be done, it will be done, one way or another.

It's a good thing I'm good-humored about my own shortcomings. If I couldn't laugh at myself, I'd sink into a morass of despair so fast there'd soon be nothing left but my hat. And I don't wear a hat.

It's a good thing I'm confident. Oh, never mind. You already know better than that.

Oh, wait. I'm not persistent at all. If I were, I'd still be unrolling lengths of duct tape and wrapping them tightly around the leaks in my hose. Instead, I gave up after six or seven tries and just let the water run all over my shoes for the third day in a row.

I'm not at all patient, either. If I were, I wouldn't have had to spend valuable time searching for the roll of duct tape I lost in the bushes. I wouldn't have slammed the dripping nozzle down and then stomped on it. I wouldn't have invented several new words for the next edition of the OED (the one where the E stands for "expletive").

I'm not all that flexible. If I were, I would have tried to analyze the situation instead of continuing to try what I already knew wasn't working. Lots and lots of duct tape. I could afford to buy a whole new hose for the amount of duct tape I used. And yet it still wasn't enough. I should have been persistent enough to keep trying, or flexible enough to try something else.

I'm not dedicated to the degree that I'll stand out there watering my shoes long enough to give the garden the soaking it needs. I gave it the old once-over and nothing growing there absorbed quite as much water as I did. The leaves were dripping, but not as much as my elbows were.

My good humor is fading almost as fast as my confidence. If I didn't have a sense of humor about the situation, though, I couldn't even write about it. Still, it's not all that funny when you're standing in the yard getting dribbled on. It takes me a while to dry off enough to find it even mildly amusing.

I'm not even sure what the next step is. My latest plan is to stick a sprinkler on the end of this hose and use it in the side yard. Then I'll buy another hose for the garden, and another nozzle, and hope I can water with it without any new tragedies. Maybe I should buy another roll of duct tape, too.