The Day I Realized My Plant Was Judging My Life Choices
We’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a cheesy reality show, a half-eaten bag of chips precariously balanced on your stomach. You glance up, and there it is: your plant, perched on the windowsill like a leafy green Buddha, silently judging your every move. Okay, maybe not judging judging, but there’s definitely a vibe.
Does My Plant Secretly Judge Me?
It all started innocently enough. I adopted Phil, my majestic ZZ plant, from a local nursery. He was this sturdy, independent dude who thrived on neglect—the perfect plant parent’s plant, I thought. And for a while, it was smooth sailing. We co-existed in peaceful, leafy harmony. But then, something shifted.
It was a particularly rough Tuesday. I’d spilled coffee on my favorite shirt, endured a soul-crushing commute, and to top it off, completely butchered the seemingly simple recipe I was trying for dinner (turns out “a pinch of saffron” is not a precise measurement). As I slumped onto the couch, a wave of self-pity washing over me, I caught Phil‘s “gaze.”
