Just Relaxed Blog

Category: Personal Essay

The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

My Thumb Went From Black to…Less Black?

Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my nurturing abilities. I once killed a cactus. A CACTUS. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a peace lily for my birthday, I accepted it with the same enthusiasm one might have for a tax audit. I figured it was only a matter of time before I added “plant murderer” to my list of questionable talents.

plant’s persistent perkiness, or maybe I was just tired of watching succulents spontaneously combust in my care, but I decided to actually try this whole “keeping something alive” thing.

Lesson #1: Resilience Is About More Than Just Bouncing Back

Turns out, peace lilies are pretty dramatic. Forget to water them for a few days? They wilt like a heartbroken teenager. Give them a little H2O? BAM! Back to life, good as new. This cycle repeated itself several times (okay, maybe more than several) before it finally sunk in: even after a major droop, a little TLC goes a long way.

Who knew this applied to more than just thirsty flora? We all have those “wilting” moments, those times when we feel like we’re running on empty. But just like my little green roommate, we’re capable of bouncing back. Sometimes, all it takes is recognizing what we need (a good night’s sleep, a vent session with a friend, a whole pizza eaten in one sitting…no judgment here) and giving ourselves permission to recharge.

Lesson #2: Embracing Imperfect Growth in Ourselves and Our Plants

Remember how I said I’m not exactly a natural in the plant-parent department? Yeah, well, that learning curve was steep. There was accidental overwatering (RIP, bottom leaves), a near-death experience involving a heat vent, and let’s not even talk about the Great Repotting Fiasco of 2023.

But through it all, my little plant persevered. It sprouted new leaves (some a little wonky, but hey, nobody’s perfect), and even—dare I say it—thrived. It was a messy, chaotic journey, but with each new leaf, I learned to embrace the process, imperfections and all.

March 13, 2025
Why My Phone Charger is My Arch Nemesis (And Other Tales of Technological Frustration)

The Case of the Vanishing Voltage

Picture this: It’s 2:00 AM. I’m nestled in bed, cozy and about to drift off to sleep when I see it—the dreaded “Low Battery” notification blinking menacingly from my phone screen. My heart sinks. It’s not just that I forgot to charge it (again). Oh no, this is far more sinister. This is a classic case of “The Vanishing Voltage.”

I scramble for my charger, feeling like Indiana Jones racing against a booby trap. I find it—or at least, I think I do. In the darkness, all my chargers seem to blend together. USB-C, micro-USB, the ancient lightning cable from my first iPhone—it’s a veritable snake pit of charging cords. I finally locate the right one and jam it into my phone with a silent prayer. But then…nothing. No telltale charging icon, no reassuring beep. My phone vibrates, its battery icon now a haunting shade of red.

This, my friends, is just one battle in my ongoing war with technology. A war where the victories are fleeting and the frustrations are oh-so-real.

The Autocorrect Assassin

We’ve all been there. That mortifying moment when autocorrect decides to turn your innocent message into something scandalous, nonsensical, or just plain weird. My autocorrect, however, has taken it to a whole new level. It’s like having a mischievous imp living in my phone, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

March 13, 2025
The Great Phone Number Mix-Up: Why I Keep Getting Calls for “Gary the Plumber”
The Day My Phone Became a Hotline for Leaky Faucets

It all started innocently enough. I was at my desk, diligently trying to meet a deadline (okay, maybe scrolling through social media), when my phone rang. “Hello?” I answered, expecting it to be my best friend gossiping about the latest episode of our favorite reality show.

Instead, a gruff voice boomed, “Gary? You got those pipe fittings I ordered?”
Gary.”

The voice on the other end scoffed. “Don’t mess with me, Gary. You said you’d be here an hour ago!” And with that, he hung up. I sat there for a moment, bewildered. Was this some elaborate prank call?

The Never-Ending Saga: Calls for Clogged Toilets and Busted Pipes

Oh, how I wish it had been a prank call. Over the next few weeks, my phone became a hotline for all things plumbing. I received calls about:
- A burst pipe in a bakery (apparently, Gary was supposed to save the day…and the croissants).
- A clogged toilet at a yoga studio (I shuddered to imagine the details).
- A leaky faucet at a pet grooming salon (the mental image of soapy, wet dogs running amok almost made me answer “Gary’s Plumbing Services” just to redirect the chaos).
At first, I tried patiently explaining that I wasn’t Gary the Plumber. But after the tenth call about a malfunctioning garbage disposal, even my patience had sprung a leak.

Becoming “Gary”: My Foray into Fictional Plumbing

That’s when I decided to have a little fun with it. When someone called asking for Gary, I’d launch into a detailed description of the latest plumbing tools, using made-up technical jargon I’d gleaned from watching too many home improvement shows.

“Ah, yes, you must be calling about the Hydromatic Pressure Regulator 3000! A fine piece of equipment, if I do say so myself. Now, have you tried recalibrating the flux capacitor?”

March 13, 2025
Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Club)

Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join the Club)

From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

Let’s be honest, folks. I used to be the grim reaper of greenery. I’m talking succulents shrivelling faster than my patience during rush hour traffic. My apartment resembled a graveyard of good intentions, littered with empty terracotta pots and drooping leaves.

Then, something magical happened. Call it a quarantine whim, a desperate plea for something living in my apartment that wasn’t judging my snack choices, or maybe just a touch of plant-envy from scrolling through Instagram (you know those perfectly curated plant corners we’re talking about). Whatever the reason, I decided to give plant parenthood another shot.

And guess what? It’s been amazing! Not only have I managed to keep a few leafy friends alive (some are even thriving, dare I say!), but the whole experience has brought a surprising amount of joy and calm into my life. Who knew?

The Unexpected Perks of Plant Parenthood

Here’s the thing about plants: they’re not as high-maintenance as you might think. Plus, they come with a whole host of unexpected perks:

1. They’re the Chillest Roommates Ever

No more passive-aggressive sticky notes about whose turn it is to do the dishes. Plants are silent, non-judgmental roommates who are content with a little water and sunlight. They won’t steal your food from the fridge, blast loud music at 3 am, or complain about your shoe collection (unless you count the occasional wilting leaf as a passive-aggressive protest, which I totally do).

March 13, 2025
The Unspoken Rules of Being a Line-Stander (And Why I’m Now an Expert)
My Line-Standing Baptism by Fire

Let’s be honest, nobody enjoys waiting in line. But then there are those moments, those glorious, once-in-a-lifetime experiences that require… well, standing in line. Like that time I waited 12 hours for the Star Wars premiere. Yes, 12 hours. It’s a period of my life I refer to as my “line-standing baptism by fire.”

I went in a naive rookie; I emerged a seasoned veteran of the queue. I had seen it all: line-cutters, bathroom break negotiations, the camaraderie of shared misery (and snacks). I learned the hard way that there’s an unspoken code of conduct in the world of line-standing. So, my friends, allow me to impart my hard-earned wisdom.

Rule #1: Thou Shalt Not Cutteth the Line

This should go without saying, but apparently, it doesn’t. Cutting in line is a cardinal sin, punishable by a thousand death glares (and possibly a stern talking-to). We’ve all been there, patiently inching forward, only to have someone waltz in with an air of entitlement and try to squeeze in front of us. Don’t be that person.

Pro-tip: If someone tries to pull this stunt on you, a simple “Excuse me, the back of the line is that way” delivered with a friendly smile (and a pointed finger) usually does the trick.

Rule #2: The Art of the Bathroom Break

Nature, as they say, waits for no man (or woman). And when you’ve been holding your bladder for an hour, desperately hoping you don’t miss your spot in line, things can get dicey. Here’s the protocol:
- The Buddy System is Key: Always, and I repeat always, have someone hold your place. This isn’t the time to make new friends – enlist a trusted companion in your line-standing adventure.
- Keep It Brief: This isn’t your time to scroll through social media or catch up on emails. Get in, do your business, get out.
- Express Gratitude: A sincere “thank you for holding my spot” upon your return is not only polite but also helps avoid any awkwardness.
Rule #3: Embrace the Shared Experience (and Snacks!)

Look, I get it. Standing in line can be tedious. But it can also be an opportunity to connect with your fellow humans (and maybe even make a friend or two). Strike up a conversation. Share a laugh (or a groan) about the wait time.

And for the love of all that is holy, bring snacks. Sharing is caring, people. I once made a lifelong friend over a bag of gummy bears while waiting for a roller coaster. (Okay, maybe not lifelong, but we did exchange numbers. And isn’t that what really matters?)

So, Are You Ready to Stand in Line Like a Pro?

There you have it. My crash course in the unspoken rules of line-standing. Now go forth and conquer those queues, my friend! What are your most memorable (or disastrous) line-standing experiences? Share your stories in the comments below!
March 13, 2025
The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

My Hilarious Descent into Plant Parenthood

Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my green thumb. In fact, my previous attempts at nurturing plant life could be politely described as “optimistic” with outcomes ranging from “wilted disappointment” to “crispy oblivion.” So, when a friend gifted me a peace lily, my initial reaction was a healthy mix of delight and terror. This beautiful, leafy creature was now my responsibility, and I was determined not to add it to my plant graveyard.

Plant Parents)
One of the first things I learned was that plants, unlike my demanding inbox, operate on their own schedule. This realization hit me, quite literally, when my peace lily started to dramatically droop a week after I brought it home. Panicked, I frantically Googled “droopy peace lily” and discovered the culprit: dehydration. Turns out, even the most low-maintenance plants need a little H2O every now and then. Who knew?

After a thorough watering (and a silent apology), I watched in amazement as the leaves slowly perked back up, seemingly forgiving my forgetfulness. It was a powerful reminder that patience, both with ourselves and others, can work wonders.

Lesson #2: Embracing Growth (and the Messy Process of Repotting)

As weeks turned into months, my peace lily thrived. It sprouted new leaves, each one a tiny victory in my journey as a plant parent. But then came the inevitable: repotting. The very idea filled me with dread. What if I damaged the roots? What if it hated its new home? Yet again, I consulted the all-knowing Google and discovered that sometimes, a little “tough love” is necessary for growth.

Armed with a larger pot, fresh soil, and a surprising amount of determination, I successfully repotted my peace lily. It wasn’t pretty (I may or may not have gotten dirt everywhere), but we both survived. Seeing my little plant adapt and thrive in its new environment taught me that embracing challenges, even the messy ones, can lead to incredible growth and resilience.

March 13, 2025
The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

My Brown Thumb Gets a Green Roommate

Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my green thumb. In fact, my thumbs are more of a “wilted brown” when it comes to keeping plants alive. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a sprightly peace lily, I accepted it with a mixture of cautious optimism and impending doom. I named him Percy (because, obviously) and placed him on my windowsill, bracing myself for the inevitable plant funeral.

Percy and I got off to a rocky start. I overwatered him, underwatered him, and even managed to scorch a few of his leaves with too much direct sunlight. He was drooping, browning, and frankly, looked ready to give up the ghost. Feeling like a plant-murderer in the making, I was ready to toss him in the compost bin. But then, a glimmer of hope appeared. A single, tiny leaf unfurled, a vibrant green beacon against the brown.

Something shifted within me. If Percy could rally after my less-than-stellar care, couldn’t I do the same in my own life? We all have moments where we feel wilted and defeated, but Percy reminded me that even in the face of adversity, the potential for growth and renewal remains. From then on, I vowed to be more attentive to Percy’s needs (and downloaded a plant care app—no shame!).

Lesson #2: Patience: A Plant’s Pace of Growth

As Percy slowly began to recover, I found myself impatiently waiting for him to flourish. I wanted to see lush leaves, vibrant blooms, the whole shebang! But Percy, in his infinite wisdom, had other plans. He took his sweet, green time. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and still, there were no dramatic transformations.

Then, one morning, while watering him (on schedule, thanks to my app!), I noticed something magical. A single, elegant bloom had emerged, its white spathe unfurling like a delicate flag of victory. It was a subtle change, easily missed if I wasn’t paying attention. And that was the lesson. Real growth, true transformation, rarely happens overnight. It’s the small, incremental changes, the subtle shifts in perspective and effort, that ultimately lead to the most beautiful outcomes.

March 13, 2025
The Joy of Missing Out (And Why You Might Love It Too)
missing-out –>The Joy of Missing Out (And Why You Might Love It Too)

From FOMO to “Namaste in My Pajamas“

Remember that time everyone went to that thing and posted about it endlessly on social media? Yeah, I stayed home. In my pajamas. With a cup of tea and a good book. And you know what? It was glorious.

For years, I was the queen of FOMO. Fear of Missing Out ruled my life. If everyone was doing it, I had to be there. Concert on a Tuesday? Present! Three-hour brunch with questionable eggs benedict? Count me in! This led to a lot of late nights, questionable life choices, and a constant feeling of being utterly exhausted.
time was my own, and I could choose to spend it however I pleased.

Embracing My Inner Homebody (Without Apology)

Since then, I’ve been on a mission to embrace JOMO, and let me tell you, it’s been life-changing. Here are a few unexpected benefits I’ve experienced:
- Decreased anxiety and stress: No more frantic rushing, last-minute outfit changes, or social exhaustion. JOMO means saying “yes” to peace and quiet.
- Increased productivity and creativity: Remember all that time I wasted feeling jealous of other people’s curated lives? I now channel that energy into pursuing my own passions and hobbies.
- Deeper connections with loved ones: Instead of shallow interactions at crowded events, I now prioritize quality time with people I genuinely care about.
March 13, 2025
The Unseen Beauty of a Truly Crappy First Draft

My Love-Hate Relationship with First Drafts

Oh, first drafts. We’ve had a tumultuous relationship, you and I. It usually starts with such promise, a spark of an idea, a blank page full of hope. Then, somewhere between the second paragraph and the sudden urge to reorganize my sock drawer, things go downhill. Fast.

I’m talking about those drafts where the sentences stumble around like toddlers after a sugar rush. Where the plot resembles a tangled ball of Christmas lights after a particularly enthusiastic unpacking. The ones that make you question your sanity, your talent, your very existence as a writer.

first drafts: they’re supposed to be crappy. It’s like giving yourself permission to be bad, to suck, to write without the pressure of perfection. And in that freedom, something magical happens.

Suddenly, it’s not about crafting beautiful sentences or intricate plot twists. It’s about getting the story out of your head and onto the page, no matter how messy or chaotic it may be. It’s about silencing that inner critic and letting the words flow freely, without judgment.

Finding the Diamonds in Your First Draft

Now, I’m not saying that every crappy first draft is a masterpiece in disguise. Some are just plain bad. But within that mess, hidden amongst the awkward phrasing and plot holes the size of Texas, are little gems of brilliance.

It might be a particularly poignant sentence, a character interaction that crackles with energy, or a plot twist that even you didn’t see coming. These are the diamonds in the rough, the nuggets of gold that make sifting through the muck worthwhile.

March 13, 2025
The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

From Brown Thumb to Budding Botanist (Sort Of)

Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my green thumb. In fact, I’m pretty sure I could kill a cactus with kindness (and maybe a little too much water). So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a houseplant for my birthday, I accepted it with a mix of gratitude and trepidation. “Don’t worry,” she chirped, “this one’s practically indestructible!” Famous last words, right?

To my surprise, not only did the plant survive my initial attempts at care, but it actually thrived! Turns out, even a black thumb like me can learn a thing or two about keeping something green alive. But here’s the kicker: this little pot of chlorophyll didn’t just teach me about horticulture, it imparted some surprisingly profound life lessons along the way.

Lesson #1: Patience is a Virtue (and So Is Google)

My first challenge? Figuring out what the heck this plant even was. Turns out, “Philodendron” wasn’t just a made-up word from a Dr. Seuss book. Armed with this newfound knowledge (thanks, Google!), I embarked on a crash course in plant parenting. I learned that overwatering is a thing (who knew?), that direct sunlight isn’t always a plant’s best friend, and that sometimes, you just gotta let your green buddy chill.

life, patience is key when nurturing growth. There were no overnight miracles, no instant gratification. But slowly, steadily, I started to notice new leaves unfurling, reaching towards the light. It was a subtle reminder that the best things in life often take time, and a little bit of patience can go a long way.

Lesson #2: Embrace the Imperfections

Now, let’s be real, my plant journey wasn’t all sunshine and blooming roses. There were some casualties along the way – a few yellowing leaves here, a drooping stem there. I learned to accept that imperfections are part of the process, both in plant care and in life. Not every leaf will be perfectly formed, just like not every day will be perfect.

In fact, those imperfections often add character and tell a story. That slightly scarred leaf? A testament to my cat’s misguided attempt at making friends. The slightly crooked stem? A reminder that even when things get a bit off track, life finds a way to adjust and keep growing.

Lesson #3: Celebrate the Small Wins (and the New Growth)

One of the most rewarding parts of this whole plant parenting experience has been witnessing the small victories. The thrill of spotting a new leaf unfurling, the quiet satisfaction of seeing my once-droopy plant stand tall and proud – these little wins have brought me an unexpected amount of joy.

March 13, 2025