As I prepared to go back to school for my last year, I was determined to make myself do all of the adultiest adult things I could do. I was going to figure out how to drink my coffee without 10 sugar packets. I was going to buy a broom and actually use it. I was going to learn how to make things in my contraband dorm crock pot. But the absolute crown jewel in my adulting crown was going to be taking care of the 10 adorable plants I picked out with my nana. (Okay, I wasn't completely delusional. My real goal was going to be to at least keep 7 out of 10 alive.) Spoiler Alert: I am basically a plant serial killer.
I started off the year with high hopes. I bought some succulents, jade, and an aloe plant. The internet told me all three kinds are fairly easy to care for. One is even supposed to be relatively indestructible. My roommate also bought some plants, so we could become real adults together. We set up our suite and shuffled around all of the cutesy little painted planters we had picked out. We arranged our new projects into groups to keep each other company. We bought a watering can and some fertilizer. Our parents even helped us water before they left, hoping they could give the plants at least a fighting chance over the next week.
Except, my dad made one mistake that was detrimental to my first two little plants. He trusted me to fill up the watering can and didn't check the water temperature. Now, I'm not a complete imbecile, and I do realize that plants don't like showers as piping hot as I do. I also didn't realize how quickly my new suite sink warmed up. So, he doused a couple of those babies in boiling hot water. Whoops. I let him refill the watering can.
After my parents left, it pretty much all went downhill from there. I honestly think that every time I decided to even look at one of the plants, a leaf fell off or wilted. Or when they weren't drying out, they became so engorged with water they looked ready to explode. Or they drowned because my roommate and I accidentally both watered them that day. Or that time I dropped the poor thing and smashed half of its leaves.
As of now, I'm left with 3 actually healthy-looking plants, 3 relatively (as in I probably won't have to throw them out within the next week) healthy-looking plants, and 2 deathbed plants (they probably should have already made it to the garbage, but I'm stubborn). So, this exercise has taught me some valuable life lessons. For example, don't set unreasonable expectations for yourself. Everyone should have known that 2 out of 10 healthy plants was a much more reasonable goal for me. Also, sometimes being fake has some advantages (like I can't kill you with my lack of gardening skills). Finally, I need a new way to pretend to be an adult.
