Just Relaxed Blog

Category: Personal Essay

  • Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Green Thumb Club)

    Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join My Green Thumb Club)




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


    Let’s be real – before I became a “plant parent,” my thumbs were about as green as a flamingo in a tutu. I’m talking serial plant killer here. If it photosynthesized, I probably accidentally offed it with too much love (read: water). But then something changed. Maybe it was a global pandemic, maybe it was an early mid-life crisis, or maybe, just maybe, it was destiny. Whatever the reason, I went full-on crazy plant lady, and guess what? I’m obsessed.

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent: My Origin Story

    It all started with a sad-looking succulent named Steve. He was a clearance aisle rescue, a last-ditch effort to prove I wasn’t a complete botanical assassin. To my surprise, Steve thrived. He plumped up, he grew new little succulent babies, he even seemed to… smile? Okay, I might be projecting, but the point is, I kept Steve alive!

    That’s when the floodgates opened. Suddenly, my apartment looked like a greenhouse exploded. Ferns, cacti, even a finicky fiddle-leaf fig (who I lovingly named Fiona and consult with daily) took up residence in my humble abode. And you know what? I kind of love it.

    Plant Parenthood

    Now, you might be thinking, “But I can barely keep a goldfish alive, let alone a plant!” Trust me, I get it. But here’s the thing – plant parenting is more than just keeping something green alive. It’s about so much more:

    1. Stress Relief and Mindfulness

    Remember those adult coloring books everyone was obsessed with? Think of plants as the ultimate coloring book, but instead of markers, you use water and sunshine. Caring for plants is surprisingly therapeutic. The act of watering, repotting, and even just observing their growth is incredibly grounding. It’s like meditation, but with more chlorophyll.

    2. Insta-Worthy Décor (That Cleans Your Air!)

    Let’s be honest, plants are basically living, breathing home décor. They add life, texture, and a pop of color to any space. Plus, they’re like the ultimate air purifiers! Talk about form and function. Now, if only they could do laundry…

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant


    My Little Green Guru

    Let’s be honest, my thumbs have never exactly been green. In fact, I’m pretty sure my touch is lethal to anything resembling flora. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a houseplant – a cute little succulent named Stan (yes, I name my plants, don’t judge) – I was convinced it was living on borrowed time.

    To my surprise, Stan thrived! Not only did he survive my questionable care, but he flourished. And as I watched him grow, I realized this little plant was teaching me some big life lessons. Who knew a succulent could be such a wise sage?

    Houseplant

    Life, like my watering schedule, can be unpredictable. Just when Stan seemed settled and happy, I’d inevitably forget to water him for a week (or two… okay, maybe three). He’d start to droop, his vibrant green fading to a pale, almost translucent yellow. I’d panic, convinced I’d finally pushed him past the point of no return.

    But then, I’d remember he’s a succulent, practically designed to withstand droughts. A good soak and a little extra sunshine later, Stan would be back to his old self, standing tall and proud. It was a powerful reminder that even when life throws curveballs, a little resilience goes a long way.

    Learning Patience from a Plant: Slow and Steady Growth

    We live in a world of instant gratification. Want to watch a movie? Streaming services. Need groceries? Delivery apps. But Stan, in his quiet, unassuming way, taught me the value of patience. He didn’t sprout new leaves overnight. His growth was slow, almost imperceptible at times. But with each passing week, I’d notice subtle changes – a new shoot here, a slightly taller stem there.

    It was a gentle reminder that good things take time. Whether it’s achieving a personal goal or nurturing a relationship, patience is key. Just like Stan’s steady growth, the most meaningful changes often happen gradually, quietly unfolding over time.

  • The Great Sock Drawer Mystery: An Epic Tale of Laundry and Loss

    The Great Sock Drawer Mystery: An Epic Tale of Laundry and Loss




    The Great Sock Drawer Mystery: An Epic Tale of Laundry and Loss

    The Case of the Missing Sock: Why Do Socks Disappear in the Wash?

    Let’s be honest, folks. We’ve all been there. You pull a load of laundry out of the dryer, triumphantly carrying the warm, fluffy bounty back to your bedroom, only to be met with a chilling realization: one sock is missing. Again. It’s like the Bermuda Triangle, but for ankle-warmers. Seriously, where do they go?

    Socks

    Over the years, I’ve developed a few working theories about this sock-swallowing phenomenon. Allow me to present them to you, esteemed jury, and you be the judge:

    1. The Sock Monster: This mythical creature (possibly related to the boogeyman) lurks in the shadows of our homes, snatching socks with reckless abandon. Evidence: None whatsoever, but it’s a comforting thought.
    2. The Washing Machine’s Secret Portal: Some whispers speak of a hidden dimension accessible only through the swirling vortex of a washing machine. Perhaps our socks are flung through this portal, doomed to walk among lost cutlery and rogue buttons in the Land of Mismatched Items.
    3. The Static Cling Conspiracy: Have you ever noticed how socks love to cling to other garments? It’s possible they simply hitch a ride out of the laundry basket, clinging to a pant leg or shirttail, never to be seen again.

    The Great Sock Experiment: My Quest to Solve the Mystery

    Determined to get to the bottom of this age-old mystery, I embarked on a daring experiment. I bought ten pairs of identical socks. Ten! Surely, the loss of one or two wouldn’t be so devastating in this scenario, right? Wrong. The sock monster, it seemed, had a particular fondness for these new socks. They vanished at an alarming rate, leaving me with a drawer full of misfits and a heart full of despair.

  • The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry

    The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry




    The Surprisingly Deep Thoughts I Have While Doing Laundry


    We all have those mundane tasks that, for some reason, unlock a hidden philosopher within. For me, it’s laundry day. Yes, you read that right. Something about the whirring of the washing machine, the scent of detergent, and the rhythmic folding of clothes sends my brain down the rabbit hole of contemplation.

    The Great Sock Paradox: A Laundry Mystery

    It starts innocently enough. I’m pairing socks, a task that always reminds me of a less glamorous version of Cinderella. But then it hits me: the Great Sock Paradox. Every week, without fail, at least one sock goes missing. Where do they go? Is there a rogue sock monster hiding in my dryer vent? Do they have a secret portal to a sock dimension where they live out their days frolicking in fields of lint?

    These missing socks, I’ve decided, are a metaphor for life‘s little mysteries. We search for answers, often overlooking the obvious, clinging to outlandish theories when the simplest explanation is usually the truth. Or maybe, just maybe, the socks really are escaping to a better place. A girl can dream, right?

    A person folding laundry with a thoughtful expression
  • Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Totally Join the Club)

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

    Let’s be honest, I used to be a plant assassin. Seriously, I could kill a cactus in a desert. I’d overwater, underwater, forget to water entirely – you name it, my poor plants suffered through it. So, naturally, when everyone and their sourdough starter became obsessed with houseplants during that time, I remained skeptical. “Plants are just decorative dust collectors,” I’d declare, secretly mourning the ghosts of ferns past.

    But then, something magical happened. My partner, bless their heart, gifted me a resilient little ZZ plant for my birthday. Figuring I had nothing to lose (except another plant, potentially), I decided to give it a go. And guess what? Not only did it survive, it thrived. That’s when I realized: maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t doomed to a life of plant homicide after all. Maybe, with a little effort, even *I* could experience the joys of plant parenthood.

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Fast forward to today, and my once barren apartment is now a veritable jungle. (Okay, maybe a slight exaggeration, but I do have more plants than shoes now, which is saying something). And you know what? It’s amazing!

    The Unexpected Benefits of Being a Plant Parent

    Here’s why you should join the plant parent club:

    1. Plants Make the Best Roommates

    Seriously, have you ever met a plant that complains about the dishes or hogs the bathroom? They’re quiet, they don’t steal your food, and they’re always down to listen (or at least, they look like they are). Plants provide a sense of calm and tranquility that even the most zen meditation app can’t replicate. Plus, they’re way less demanding than pets. No early morning walks or litter boxes to deal with, just the occasional watering and a bit of sunshine.

    2. Plants are Natural Stress Relievers

    Okay, maybe not actually therapists (though wouldn’t that be cool?). But tending to plants has this incredible way of melting away stress. There’s something incredibly therapeutic about digging in the soil, pruning leaves, and watching something you nurtured flourish. It’s a tangible reminder that growth and progress take time, and that even small acts of care can make a big difference. Plus, that fresh, earthy smell? Instant mood booster.

    More Than Just Pretty Faces: The Hidden Talents of Houseplants

    As if being low-maintenance roommates and stress-busters wasn’t enough, plants also come with a whole host of hidden talents:

    • Natural Air Purifiers: Say goodbye to stale air and hello to a breath of fresh oxygen. Plants are natural air purifiers, filtering out toxins and releasing fresh oxygen into your home.
    • Humidity Heroes: Dry air got you feeling like a dried-up houseplant yourself? Certain plants, like peace lilies and spider plants, release moisture into the air, acting as natural humidifiers.
    • Productivity Boosters: Studies have shown that being around plants can actually boost concentration and creativity. So, if you’re looking for a way to liven up your workspace, a plant might be just the ticket.

    Ready to Become a Plant Parent?

    So, there you have it – the unexpected joys of being a plant parent. From stress relief to air purification, plants offer a world of benefits, even for those of us who thought we were destined for horticultural failure. So, tell me, what are you waiting for? Grab yourself a leafy friend and join the club – your mental health (and your home décor) will thank you!

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant


    From Plant Killer to Plant Parent (Sort Of)

    Let’s be honest, my thumbs have always leaned more towards “brown” than “green.” I’m practically a walking danger zone for anything remotely resembling flora. Cacti? Dehydrated. Succulents? Succumbed. You get the picture. So, naturally, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a houseplant, I accepted with a mix of terror and morbid curiosity. How long would this one last, I wondered?

    To my utter shock, not only did the plant survive, it thrived. It even sprouted a new leaf, which in my book, is basically equivalent to winning a horticultural Olympic medal. As I diligently watered, rotated, and even serenaded (don’t judge) my leafy companion, I realized something unexpected was happening. My houseplant wasn’t just growing, it was teaching me.

    Lesson #1: Patience is a Virtue (and Also Essential for Plant Care)

    I’m a notoriously impatient person. I want everything now. Instant gratification is my middle name (okay, not really, but you get the point). My plant, however, operates on its own sweet time. It couldn’t care less about my deadlines or my need for immediate results. It taught me that sometimes, the best things take time. Growth, whether in a pot or in life, unfolds at its own pace.

  • Is My Houseplant Judging My Life Choices? (The Answer Might Surprise You)

    Is My Houseplant Judging My Life Choices? (The Answer Might Surprise You)



    We’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a reality TV marathon you swore you’d never watch, and you catch a glimpse of your houseplant. It’s just sitting there, silently existing, yet you can’t shake the feeling that it’s… judging you.

    Okay, maybe not literally judging. But lately, my leafy roommate and I have developed a complex relationship that can only be described as one of mutual side-eye.

    The Dating App Debacle: When My Plant Staged an Intervention

    It all started with a particularly egregious dating app decision. I was about to message someone who’s profile picture featured them holding a fish (red flag, I know) when I noticed my peace lily, Beatrice, looking particularly droopy. Now, I’m no botanist, but even I could tell this went beyond needing a splash of water.

  • The Unspoken Rules of Grocery Store Etiquette (And Why I Break Them All)

    The Unspoken Rules of Grocery Store Etiquette (And Why I Break Them All)




    My Cart, My Playground

    The other day, I was at the grocery store, juggling a bag of onions, a carton of eggs (don’t ask), and a sudden, overwhelming urge to sneeze. As I precariously balanced my items, I saw her—the Cart Narc. You know the type. She patrols the aisles, silently judging those who dare to violate the sacred grocery store code. And what heinous crime had I committed? My cart was facing the “wrong” way.

    Listen, I get it. There’s an order to these things, a flow to the grocery store universe. But sometimes, just sometimes, a rebel has to take a stand. So, I’m here to confess: I am a grocery store etiquette anarchist. I break the rules, and frankly, I’m not sorry.

    The Myth of the “10 Items or Less” Lane

    Let’s be real, the “10 Items or Less” lane is a social construct, a mythical land where people pretend to count their groceries and cashiers pretend not to notice the overflowing basket. My personal record? 27 items. Okay, maybe 30. I’d argue it was a moral victory, a triumph over the man! Okay, maybe not, but I got out of there quickly, and isn’t that the point of the express lane anyway?

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant


    My Green Guru (in a Terracotta Pot)

    Let’s be honest, I’m about as far from a “green thumb” as you can get. My idea of plant care used to involve a hopeful splash of water every other week and a silent apology when things inevitably went south. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a majestic (and slightly intimidating) fiddle leaf fig, I knew I was in for a wild ride.

    Little did I know, this leafy friend would become my unlikely life coach. Who knew so much wisdom could sprout from a terracotta pot?

    Plant Parents

    Fiddle leaf figs are notorious drama queens. One minute their leaves are perky and reaching for the sun, the next they’re drooping like a teenager who just got grounded. My initial reaction to every wilted leaf was panic. I’d frantically Google solutions, convinced I was on the verge of plant homicide.

    But over time, I learned that sometimes, you just have to wait it out. Just like in life, not every problem has an immediate solution. Sometimes, the best course of action is patience, consistency, and a little bit of faith (and maybe a gentle misting).

    Lesson #2: Embrace Your Inner Weirdness (Your Plants Do)

    My fiddle leaf fig, much like yours truly, is a creature of habit. It likes its sunlight filtered, its humidity high, and its pot turned precisely 45 degrees every other Tuesday. Okay, maybe not that last part, but you get the idea.

    The point is, my plant taught me that it’s okay to have quirks and preferences. In a world that often pressures us to conform, there’s something liberating about embracing what makes you unique, even if it means your plant gets its own humidifier.

  • The Dreaded Glow: Why I’ll Never Again Ignore the ‘Check Engine’ Light (A Cautionary Tale)

    The Dreaded Glow: Why I’ll Never Again Ignore the ‘Check Engine’ Light (A Cautionary Tale)



    The Dreaded Glow: Why I’ll Never Ignore the ‘Check Engine‘ Light Again (A Cautionary Tale)

    The Day My Car Turned Into a Disco Ball

    We’ve all been there. You’re cruising along, enjoying a particularly catchy tune, when BAM! That insidious little orange light flickers on your dashboard, whispering sweet anxieties into your ear. The “Check Engine” light. My friends, I’m here to tell you, from the bottom of my now-significantly-lighter wallet, to NEVER ignore that little glowing beacon of impending doom.

    light flickered on, I shrugged it off. “It’s probably nothing,” I told myself, “just the gas cap or something.” (Narrator: It was most definitely not the gas cap.) I drove around for weeks, even months, with that orange glow becoming a permanent fixture on my dashboard, like a deranged second speedometer. I even started giving it a name: Chuck. “Hey there, Chuck,” I’d say nonchalantly as I hopped in my car, “still hanging around, huh?”

    The High Cost of Ignoring the ‘Check Engine‘ Light

    Denial, as they say, is not just a river in Egypt. It’s also a one-way ticket to Mechanicville, a magical land where dollar bills evaporate faster than water on a hot summer day. See, my casual disregard for Chuck‘s warnings eventually caught up with me. One day, my trusty car decided to stage a full-blown intervention. On my way to a very important meeting, no less.

    Imagine this: I’m stuck in traffic, already running late, when my car starts making a noise that can only be described as a dying walrus gargling with gravel. Smoke billows from under the hood, the engine sputters and dies, and there I am, stranded on the side of the road, the picture of automotive despair.