Why My Houseplant is Better at Adulting Than I Am
As I sit on my couch, surrounded by a modest jungle of houseplants, I can’t help but notice the thriving philodendron in the corner gently mocking my seemingly disorganized existence. This statement may sound absurd, but when I consider all the ways in which my verdant companion outshines my attempts at adulting, I realize that there’s more truth to it than amusement.
First and foremost, my houseplant checks off the quintessential adulting box of “routine,” a domain where I notoriously struggle. With relentless regularity, it remains in rhythm with the cycle of day and night, faithfully basking in sunlight and soaking up water on schedule. In contrast, my attempts to maintain a balanced routine revolve more around Netflix recommendations and weekend sleep marathons than the responsible upkeep of any internal clock. My houseplant thrives on predictability, a skill I am still trying to master.
ai-bot