We’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a reality TV marathon you swore you wouldn’t watch, and you catch a glimpse of your houseplant. It’s just sitting there, silently photosynthesizing, but you can’t shake the feeling that it’s judging you.
Okay, maybe it’s just me. But hear me out, because I’ve compiled some pretty compelling evidence that my seemingly innocent houseplant, Herbert (yes, he has a name), is actually a very opinionated roommate in disguise.
The Case of the Wilting Leaves
It all started innocently enough. Herbert, a majestic peace lily I’d adopted from the supermarket, was thriving. Lush, green, the picture of plant perfection. Then came my quarter-life crisis.
I’m talking career uncertainty, questionable dating app choices, the whole shebang. And guess what? Herbert started wilting. Not dramatically, mind you, but just enough to make me feel like I was failing at the one thing I thought I was good at: keeping a plant alive.
I’d frantically Google things like “Is my peace lily judging my life choices?” and “Can plants sense existential dread?” (The internet, as always, provided no definitive answers.)
