A Job Well Done

My garden tools were assembled,
Glistening in the sun,
My motivation was surging,
There was labour to be done.
With sweat and strain and pain and tears,
I attacked the job with vigour,
I scraped and honed and cleaned and dug,
And was brutal in my vigour.
And with the task completed,
Wearily I laze about,
I'm so glad I took the opportunity,
To clean my navel out.

It's awful, but it's true. I'll spare you the details, but I had just cleaned out my navel (I couldn't remember the last time I did THAT) and was surprised to see how much stuff was in there.