Let me give you some context. I live in Wisconsin where consistent weather is a joke. One week ago, I was sitting on my patio barefoot, my hands half in potting soil, barefoot, deciding I was going to be a gardener. (I tried last year to grow things, but it was instead of actually growing things, I watched my “crops” get demolished by the hoards of bunnies that storm Wisconsin once the sun hints its return from seemingly eternal hibernation of torment and doom.*) Just over 24 hours later, I’m driving to work, and it’s snowing. Yes, ok. It’s not sticking, but it’s cold enough for frozen precipitation to be falling from the sky.
Once I got home from work, Operation “FROZEN PLANT MEGA-THUNDER FIRE” took effect. All the plants are now taking shelter on my desk. It was a close call, but a week later things are actually growing? Light doesn’t really reach that corner, guys. These plants are living in shadow, and the dredges of whatever ambient light is left over after traversing at least 5 major corners.
It’s some bizarre real-life metaphor. The plants are saying, “you don’t actually get anything done here! Something’s gotta bloom if it’s not your dreams and ideas! Lazy fool!” My plants are very accusatory.
So, yes. I type this from the floor, while my plants are making use out of my desk. Someone should.
*Winter was hard, you guys.