Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: Personal Essay

  • Is My Plant Silently Judging My Life Choices? An Investigation

    Is My Plant Silently Judging My Life Choices? An Investigation




    Is My Plant Silently Judging My Life Choices? An Investigation


    Do Plants Have a Sixth Sense for Life Choices?

    Let’s be honest, we’ve all been there. You’re going about your day, maybe in your pajamas at 2 p.m. on a Tuesday (no judgment, we’ve all had those days), when you catch it. That sideways glance from your leafy roommate, the one you swore you watered last week (or was it the week before?). It’s subtle, this judgment, hidden behind a curtain of vibrant green leaves, but it’s there. And it got me thinking: are our plants silently judging our life choices?

    life had descended into a chaotic mess of takeout containers and missed deadlines.

    Was Ferdinand’s melancholy a reflection of my own internal state? Was he judging my descent into chaos? I repotted him with a renewed sense of purpose, vowing to get my own life in order. Coincidence? Perhaps. But the new growth that sprouted a week later felt suspiciously like a silent nod of approval from my leafy friend.

    Exhibit B: The Succulent Side-Eye and Questionable Choices

    Then there’s Susan, my stoic succulent. Susan is a low-maintenance gal, content with a splash of water every other week and a sunny windowsill. But lately, I’ve noticed a certain…side-eye whenever I reach for that second glass of wine after a long day. It’s like she’s judging my coping mechanisms, silently advocating for a calming cup of herbal tea instead.

  • Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging My Life Choices

    Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging My Life Choices




    Does My Plant Judge My Life Choices? | A Hilarious Take


    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 something out of the corner of your eye. No, it’s not a spider (thank goodness) – it’s your plant. And for a fleeting, irrational moment, you swear it’s judging you.

    The Side-Eye From My ZZ Plant

    It all started innocently enough. I, like many others during the pandemic, decided to become a Plant Parent™. I envisioned a home filled with lush greenery, a testament to my newfound nurturing abilities. I envisioned wrong. My thumb, it turns out, is less green and more… beige. But I digress. The point is, I brought home a perfectly lovely ZZ plant, named him Ferdinand, and placed him on my bookshelf.

    At first, things were great. Ferdinand, being a ZZ plant, required minimal care. I’d remember to water him every few weeks, give his leaves a cursory dust, and that was that. But then, slowly, I started noticing it. The side-eye. Every time I’d stumble into the living room, bleary-eyed and clutching my third cup of coffee, I’d swear Ferdinand was looking at me differently. Less “proud plant parent” and more “disappointed life coach.”

  • The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Club)

    The Unexpected Joys of Being a Plant Parent (and Why You Should Join the Club)






    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Let’s be honest, I wasn’t always a natural nurturer. In fact, I had a long and storied history of accidentally assassinating any houseplant unfortunate enough to cross my path. My thumbs weren’t just black, they were shrouded in a mysterious, plant-killing aura. But then, something magical happened. I adopted a scraggly little succulent named Steve (don’t judge my naming skills), and against all odds, he thrived! Turns out, even I, notorious plant murderer, could keep something alive. And with that, my journey into the unexpected joys of plant parenthood began.

    plant just brightens up a room? It’s like instant mood-boosting decor!

    Benefits of Plant Parenthood: More Than Just Pretty Faces

    Don’t get me wrong, I love how my plants transform my living space into an urban jungle oasis. But the benefits go beyond aesthetics. Here’s what I’ve discovered:

    • Improved Air Quality: Plants are like little natural air purifiers, filtering out toxins and releasing fresh oxygen. Who needs fancy air filters when you have a leafy friend or two?
    • Boosted Creativity and Focus: Studies have shown that being around plants can actually increase concentration and spark creativity. Maybe that’s why I get my best ideas while watering my ferns!
    • A Sense of Accomplishment: Let’s face it, keeping a plant alive and thriving feels like a major win, especially for those of us who aren’t exactly blessed with green thumbs. Each new leaf feels like a personal victory, a testament to my newfound nurturing abilities.
  • Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer (and Why You Should Join the Club)

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




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


    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Let’s be honest, my thumbs have seen better days. In fact, they used to be infamous for their uncanny ability to turn even the most resilient houseplants into wilted, brown messes. My past attempts at plant parenthood resembled a graveyard of good intentions, littered with empty terracotta pots and drooping leaves.

    But something changed recently. Maybe it was the pandemic, maybe it was an early midlife crisis, but I decided to give plants another shot. And let me tell you, it’s been a wild, surprisingly therapeutic, and surprisingly hilarious ride.

    Leaf Fig Taught Me Patience

    Enter Fiona, my notoriously dramatic fiddle leaf fig. Fiona, with her giant, elegant leaves, was supposed to be the crown jewel of my plant collection. Instead, she became my biggest challenge. Every brown spot, every dropped leaf felt like a personal failure. Why couldn’t I keep this finicky plant alive when everyone else on Instagram seemed to have mastered the art of fiddle leaf fig care?

    But slowly, through trial and error (and a lot of Googling), I started to understand Fiona’s needs. I learned that direct sunlight is her kryptonite, that overwatering is a cardinal sin, and that a gentle misting on a hot day is like a spa treatment for her delicate leaves.

    And guess what? Fiona thrived! Seeing her new growth, those vibrant green leaves unfurling, filled me with an absurd amount of pride. It was a lesson in patience, observation, and the incredible resilience of nature.

    More Than Just Pretty Decor: The Unexpected Perks of Plant Parenthood

    Here’s the thing about plants: they’re not just pretty decorations (although they do elevate my apartment’s aesthetic, let’s be real). They bring a sense of calm, a touch of nature, and a surprising amount of laughter into your life.

    Here are a few unexpected joys I’ve discovered:

    • Plants are the ultimate listeners. Have a bad day? Tell it to your Monstera. Need to vent about your boss? Your ZZ plant won’t judge.
    • They’re a source of endless entertainment. I swear, my prayer plant does a little dance every time I water it. And watching my string of pearls slowly but surely take over my bookshelf brings me an unreasonable amount of joy.
    • They connect you to a community. The plant-loving community is vast, welcoming, and full of people who understand the struggle of reviving a droopy peace lily.
  • 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 Brown Thumb Gets a Green Roommate

    Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my nurturing nature. My thumbs are decidedly not green. In fact, I’m pretty sure they emit an invisible plant-killing aura. So, when my well-intentioned friend gifted me a cheerful little ZZ plant, I accepted it with the quiet resignation of a condemned prisoner.

    “He’s practically indestructible!” my friend chirped, oblivious to the impending doom in my care.

    Plant Resilience – More Than Just a Buzzword

    The first few weeks were a predictable disaster. I overwatered, I underwatered, I even managed to spill coffee grounds on the poor thing (don’t ask). My ZZ plant, which I’d christened “Percy” (don’t judge, I was feeling optimistic), began to wither. Its leaves, once vibrant and glossy, drooped like sad, green tears.

    Just when I was about to deliver the eulogy and toss Percy into the compost bin, something miraculous happened. I noticed a tiny, new shoot emerging from the soil. It was pale and fragile, but it was there, a defiant little fist raised against my neglect. Percy, it seemed, was not ready to give up.

    And neither, I realized, was I. Inspired by Percy’s tenacity, I actually bothered to Google “ZZ plant care” (who knew?). I learned that these plants are practically succulents, thriving on neglect rather than drowning in affection (my kind of plant!).

    With a newfound respect for Percy and his resilient spirit, I adjusted my approach. I gave him less water, more sunlight, and even the occasional pep talk (don’t judge, it worked!). Slowly but surely, Percy bounced back. He sprouted new growth, his leaves regained their shine, and he even seemed to stand a little taller.

    Lesson #2: Embracing the Pace of Growth

    As Percy thrived, I found myself applying his quiet wisdom to other areas of my life. Just like I couldn’t force Percy to grow faster, I realized I couldn’t rush my own personal or professional development. There would be periods of dormancy, times when it felt like I was stuck in the same pot, with the same old problems. But just like Percy taught me, sometimes you just need to be patient, trust the process, and know that growth happens in its own time.

  • Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging Me (and Other Tales of Domesticity)

    Why I’m Convinced My Plant is Secretly Judging Me (and Other Tales of Domesticity)




    The Side-Eye From a ZZ Plant

    “Did you water me today?” My boyfriend asks from the living room. I glance up from my laptop, squinting suspiciously at the large ZZ plant in the corner.

    “Maybe?” I reply, my voice laced with feigned innocence.

    He chuckles, used to my, shall we say, flexible approach to plant care. But here’s the thing: I swear that ZZ plant just gave me the side-eye. You know the one – a subtle tilt of the…leaf? Stem? Whatever. The point is, I could feel the judgment radiating from its vibrant green foliage. It’s moments like these that make me question if my plant has silently appointed itself the guardian of my domesticity (or lack thereof).

    Dust Bunny Rebellion

    Speaking of guardians, let’s talk about the dust bunnies. They’re not so much guardians as they are a mischievous army, constantly plotting to overthrow my semblance of order. I swear, I could spend an entire Saturday cleaning, and by Sunday morning, they’d be back – bigger, bolder, and multiplying at an alarming rate.

    I’ve tried everything: dusting sprays, microfiber cloths, even attempting to befriend a particularly fluffy specimen (it didn’t end well). But they persist, a constant reminder that in the epic battle between me and household chores, the dust bunnies might just be winning.

    The Case of the Missing Tupperware Lid

    And then there’s the mystery of the missing Tupperware lids. This, my friends, is a phenomenon that has plagued humankind since the invention of plastic containers. I’m convinced there’s a black hole somewhere in my kitchen, a vortex that sucks in Tupperware lids and spits out unmatched bottoms with reckless abandon.

    I’ve tried implementing systems – stacking, organizing by size, even labeling (yes, I know, I was desperate). But alas, the lids remain elusive, their whereabouts a mystery that may never be solved.

  • Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer: The Unexpected Joys of Plant Parenthood (and Why You Should Join the Club)

    Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer: The Unexpected Joys of Plant Parenthood (and Why You Should Join the Club)




    Confessions of a Reformed Plant Killer: The Unexpected Joys of Plant Parenthood (and Why You Should Join the Club)

    From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent

    Let’s be honest, folks. I used to be a plant assassin. I’m talking serial killer levels of destruction. Cacti? Wilted. Succulents? Soup. That poor peace lily never stood a chance. I resigned myself to a life devoid of greenery, convinced I was cursed with a black thumb.

    But then, something magical happened. My well-meaning friend gifted me a resilient snake plant (probably banking on my inability to kill it). And guess what? It survived! Not only did it survive, it thrived. That’s when I realized maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t a lost cause after all. That little snake plant opened my eyes to a world of unexpected joys, and I’m here to convert you, my fellow plant-challenged comrades, to the wonderful world of plant parenthood.

    plant thrive under your care. It’s a much-needed ego boost in a world that often feels determined to tear us down.

    Houseplant Home Decor: Affordable & Easy

    Let’s face it, decorating can be expensive and time-consuming. But guess what makes a statement without breaking the bank? Plants! They’re like living, breathing pieces of art that instantly elevate any space.

    Want to create a tropical oasis in your bathroom? Hello, majestic Monstera! Craving a touch of bohemian chic in your living room? String of pearls, baby! Feeling extra ambitious? Build a vertical garden and become the envy of your entire apartment complex! The possibilities are endless, and the best part is, your plant babies will only get bigger and more beautiful over time.

  • The Great Sock Drawer Mystery: An Epic Tale of Disappearing Hosiery

    The Great Sock Drawer Mystery: An Epic Tale of Disappearing Hosiery



    Sock: A Laundry Room Enigma

    We’ve all been there. You reach into the depths of your sock drawer, hopeful yet wary. Your fingers dance across a sea of solitary socks—some fluffy, some thin, all desperately seeking their long-lost partners. It happened to me again this morning. One minute I held a perfectly matched pair of stripy socks, the next, poof! Gone! Vanished into thin air, leaving behind only its forlorn mate and a swirling vortex of questions.

    Where do they go, these rogue socks? What unseen force snatches them from our laundry baskets and deposits them into some mysterious sock limbo? Is there a secret society of sock-stealing gremlins lurking in our dryers? The world may never know.

    Sock Disappearances

    Over the years, I’ve heard countless theories attempting to explain the great sock disappearance. Some blame it on black holes, miniature wormholes that open up within the washing machine, sucking unsuspecting socks into another dimension. Others believe in the sock gnome, a mischievous creature who thrives on the chaos of mismatched pairs.

    While these theories are entertaining, I’ve come up with a few of my own, based on rigorous (read: nonexistent) scientific research:

    • The Quantum Entanglement Theory: Perhaps socks exist in a state of quantum entanglement. When we pair them, we’re disrupting their natural state. The universe, seeking balance, then splits one sock off into an alternate dimension, leaving its partner behind in a state of perpetual loneliness.
    • The Sock-Eating Dryer Monster Theory: This one’s self-explanatory. It’s a monster, it lives in your dryer, and it has a particular fondness for cotton-blend ankle socks.
    • The Selective Memory Theory: The simplest explanation is often the most overlooked. Maybe, just maybe, we’re not actually losing our socks. Maybe we’re just bad at pairing them up in the first place. Our brains, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of socks, simply choose to forget that the match exists.

    My Quest to Conquer the Missing Sock Phenomenon

    Despite the lack of concrete answers, I refuse to give up hope. I’ve embarked on a quest for closure, a mission to reunite every lost sock with its partner. I’ve implemented a strict sock-clipping policy (clothespins are my weapon of choice), and I’ve even attempted to befriend my dryer, offering it peace offerings of dryer sheets and kind words.

  • Why I Started Talking to Plants (and You Should Too)

    Why I Started Talking to Plants (and You Should Too)

    Why I Started Talking to Plants (and You Should Too!)

    The Day My Thumb Turned Green (Sort Of)

    Let’s be honest, my thumbs have never been known for their verdant touch. I’m more of a “oops, forgot to water you for three weeks” kind of person. My past attempts at plant parenthood resembled a slow-motion tragedy, with wilting leaves and drooping stems playing the starring roles. Then, something strange happened. I started talking to them.

    I know, I know. It sounds crazy. But hear me out! It all began during a particularly stressful week. I was venting to my peace lily, Phil, about deadlines and traffic jams when I realized something. Talking to Phil, even though he clearly wasn’t listening (or was he?), made me feel calmer, lighter. It was like therapy, but cheaper and with more photosynthesis.

    The Science Behind Talking to Plants (Yes, Really!)

    Turns out, there might be something to this whole plant-talking thing. While they might not be penning novels anytime soon, studies suggest that plants are more aware of their surroundings than we think. They respond to sound vibrations, and some research even hints that gentle words might promote growth. Who knew?

    But science aside, the real magic happens on a personal level. Talking to plants:

    • Reduces stress: Venting to a fern is surprisingly therapeutic. They don’t judge, interrupt, or offer unsolicited advice!
    • Boosts mindfulness: Taking a moment to appreciate your plants’ growth and beauty encourages you to slow down and be present.
    • Makes caring for them fun: Let’s face it, telling your cactus about your day is way more entertaining than just watering it silently.

    Operation Green Thumb: From Plant Killer to Plant Whisperer

    Ready to give plant-talking a try? Here are a few tips to get you started:

    1. Choose your confidant: Any plant will do! But starting with a low-maintenance variety like a snake plant or a ZZ plant might boost your confidence (and theirs!).
    2. Find your style: Whether it’s sharing good news, reading them poetry, or simply wishing them a good morning, find what feels natural and enjoyable.
    3. Don’t overthink it: Plants are surprisingly good listeners. Just be yourself and enjoy the connection.

    Ready to Chat With Your Plants?

    Talking to my plants transformed me from a plant killer to someone who genuinely enjoys their company (and keeps them alive!). It’s a simple act that brings joy, mindfulness, and maybe even a little extra growth to both my plants and me. So, why not give it a try? You might be surprised by what you learn – about plants and yourself.

    What are your thoughts on talking to plants? Have you tried it? Share your experiences in the comments below!

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant



    From Black Thumb to Budding Botanist (Sort Of)

    Let’s be honest, my thumbs have always been more “black hole” than “green thumb.” I’m the person who could kill a cactus in a desert. So, naturally, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a peace lily, my immediate thought was, “I’m going to kill this plant, aren’t I?”

    Turns out, I was right…partially. I overwatered it. I underwatered it. I accidentally left it in direct sunlight, which, as I learned the hard way, peace lilies despise with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. Yet, somehow, amidst my bumbling attempts at plant parenthood, this little green warrior not only survived, but thrived. And in the process, it taught me a thing or two about life.

    Lesson #1: Cultivating Resilience: A Houseplant’s Tale

    peace lily looked, well, less than peaceful. Its leaves drooped lower than my motivation on a Monday morning, and its once vibrant green hue had faded to a sickly yellow. I was ready to throw in the towel (or trowel, in this case), convinced that I was a plant-killing monster.

    But then, something amazing happened. I adjusted my watering schedule, found a nice shady spot for it to chill, and lo and behold, new growth started to appear. Tiny, vibrant green shoots peeked out from the soil, like a tiny green middle finger to my doubts. The peace lily, despite my best efforts to the contrary, was resilient. And it reminded me that even when we feel wilted and worn down, the capacity for growth and renewal is always within us.

    Lesson #2: Finding Patience in the Plant World