I have a problem.
I lust after plants. Green and fertile- verdant and lush. I walk by the floral department at our local grocery and swoon- I want one! They’re so pretty! And it is all in vain internet. My thumb is blacker than – black. I kill plants just by occupying the same room with them. I am actually surprised they don’t all wilt at the sight of me, sighing dramatically as I walk past.
And it doesn’t matter what kind of plant. I bought some bamboo- very zen like sturdy bamboo, chi-enhancing bamboo and you know what? It died. Yellow wilted bamboo death. I am a killer. Even the sturdy catcti- dead. Spider plant. Dead. Dead dead dead.
But I keep wanting one. In my building, there sits a planter with various pretties on a window sill. I walk by it every day and imagine stealing (stealing!) it and making a spot for it in my home, where it will surely languish and wither, despite my best attempts to keep it alive.
(I would never steal it. Promise.)
I have a problem!
