In my house there live three plants. Three actual, non-plastic plants that I was somehow conned into purchasing as opposed to my strict plastic-greens-only policy up to that point. Because people, much like with babies, always feel like it’s their destiny to convince you to bring things into a house that require care. Whether it’s puppies, or kittens of babies or ‘green babies’ as all those insane plant-mamas call them, the general populace seems to agree that in order to be human, we need to prove this by taking care of other entities that are alive.
And I. Can’t.
These are the first plants I have owned in the past few years (save from some cacti that just…won’t…die (no matter of the neglect I put them through)). And these poor plants, they are miserable. I just know they are. I don’t water them enough, or I water them entirely too much. I don’t open the curtains most days so god knows they’re craving some sun as much as my body is (although I at least have the option to supplement with pills for the vitamin D). They’re a sorry lot, these plants.
Plus – they’re not just miserable – they’re also dying.
Very slowly and agonizingly, I imagine, but they are. They shed more leaves than I shed hair (and lemme tell ya, that’s a lot. I’m genuinely surprised some days that I’ve not yet gone bald.). I’m quite frankly very surprised that they even made it this long (I think the 6 months I’ve had ‘em is a new record for me). I once even killed one of those supposedly ‘unkillable’ succulents by giving it so much water (poured over the top) that the heavy top layers crushed and killed the lower ones until the whole thing just…collapsed into itself. Poor thing.
Anyway, the current three are also supposedly very low maintenance. Which means that my erratic watering patterns hadn’t really phased them as much as one might expect. So far. But now that ‘Winter is coming‘….they’re giving up. Because two of the three plants – they do not appreciate the blazing heat from the radiators they’re posted next to, now that I’m artificially pumping up the temperature to a solid 22 degrees, all day every day. They could deal with the lack of sun (sort of, I put them outside every once in a while for a bunch of hours) and they’ve soldiered on from the lack of sustenance but this? This heat? It seems to be the last drop for them.
Sucks for them.
Because this just EXTRA BOLDLY underlines why I, the writer of this blog, should not be put in charge of caring for ANYTHING other than myself (I’m generally doing quite a shitty job at that, as well).
Mostly because as the only thing I’m thinking right now is: ‘Sucks to be you, plant. I gots to keep the heat on.’. But also because I already KNEW they were going to inevitably die a slow and painful death upon purchasing them.
There’s just no way I’m going to turn down the temperature to keep said plants alive. I go first, bitches. And I’ll sit here and watch them wither away without a twinge of guilt in this black heart of mine. I’ll just order a couple of new plastic ones from Ikea when these perish. Evolve or die in this house. Evolve or die.