I know this is what we hope for, but the reality is ...
Step outside your front door. Feel the beautiful allure of nature wash over you, calling for you to create new life within the soil. Open your heart to the call of your ancestors who farmed the arid plains of Kansas (until the Army chucked them off their farm claiming "national security" because some "goddamned brass hat," according to your Grandfather, wanted a new golf course).
Visualize the steps you will take in building raised beds, hauling fresh soil, planting hundreds, if not thousands of little, tiny seeds one at a time to watch them shoost up toward the sun and sky.
Suddenly realize "Ben-Hur" is about to start on TCM and tell yourself you'll only watch until the guy in Nazareth complains that Joe's son never did finish the polished maple entertainment center he promised him two weeks ago. Watch entire movie. Fall asleep numerous times. Dream of garden that will begin to shoost up toward the sun and the sky tomorrow.
Just to get an early start:
Order garden soil by phone.
Guess at necessary amount.
Order five cubic yards.
Have no idea what five cubic yards of anything might entail.