We’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a cheesy reality show marathon, and you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye. It’s Phil, your seemingly innocent peace lily, but something’s different. His leaves seem to droop just a little lower, as if burdened by the knowledge of your questionable life choices.
Okay, maybe I’m being dramatic, but hear me out! Ever since I adopted Phil from a clearance shelf (a decision I now fear he judges me for), I’ve noticed a distinct correlation between the state of my life and his…disposition.
Exhibit A: The Wilting Leaves of Judgment
Remember that time I swore off dating apps, declaring I was “perfectly content” with my own company? Yeah, Phil remembers. In fact, he commemorated the occasion by dramatically wilting to the point of near-death. I’m talking droopy, pale, on-the-verge-of-a-plant-funeral levels of sadness. I panicked, convinced I was a plant murderer, until my well-meaning (and irritatingly insightful) friend suggested maybe Phil was lonely.
Desperate, I caved and redownloaded the dating app. And guess what? Phil perked right up. Coincidence? I think not.
