I think sometimes I get way overzealous or maybe I really do have too much serotonin in my brain that makes me an eternal optimist. That problem solved itself today as I was looking at the last dead plant in my greenhouse. My serotonin totally left me and I was filled with sadness and disappointment. I had these great big plans for a garden this year. I had the same plans the year before. And the year before. I even ordered these great heirloom seeds a couple years ago. That may have been my first mistake. Not that I ordered the seeds, but that I waited two (or three) years to attempt planting them. I’ve heard that you lose 25% of your seeds each year so depending on how long I actually had them, I really only had 25% or less to work with. That being said, I wasn’t super disappointed when a lot of them didn’t sprout, but I had a whole tray of, what would have been, beautiful purple tomatillos. They were growing beautifully. I was watering them faithfully. I would go into my little greenhouse and talk to them and tell them how beautiful they were and how proud of them I was for beating the odds. They were a 100% success despite their age. And then I got busy….and neglectful….and I left the greenhouse zipped up for days. It happened to be the most beautiful, sunny, hot days too and they died a horrible scorching death. My green thumb obviously has gangrene. It’s no wonder I can’t keep a relationship alive. I’ve heard when people come out of rehab, they are told to get a plant and if they can keep it alive, then they can foster a relationship with another person. I don’t know how true this is. I’ve never been in rehab and I actually have a bunch of plants in my kitchen that I haven’t killed and yet I can’t manage to keep a relationship alive so it might all actually be bullshit. I don’t know for certain.
But…. if my ability to keep and maintain a relationship was solely based on my ability to neglect yard work, my backyard would be a pretty good indicator that I would rock that shit because it definitely took me almost four hours to mow the grass today. And that was just in the back yard. I did the front the other day because I was the only person on the block who hadn’t cut the grass yet and I felt like I had to keep up with the Joneses, but you can’t really see into the back yard. Well, you can, but if you are seeing it, you’re just being nosey. And some of my neighbors really are. Or maybe they are just curious. Who knows, but either way, the grass has no problem growing. If relationships could thrive on neglect, I would be so successful. So I mowed. And mowed and mowed some more. And while I was mowing, I was thinking about sex. Not about having sex, but about the fact that I think maybe I’m addicted to it, but not in the black snake moan kind of way. Just in the every time I swear it off I want it more kind of way and I think that’s a terrible thing. I know it’s all psychological. I’m sure of that….I think. People want what they can’t have or they crave what they’ve sworn off. People on diets want sugar. Women on man fasts want men. I guess it’s only natural right?
Plus I also started thinking, if there’s no men, there’s no failure. If there’s no failure, there’s nothing to blog about. I will have to go back into the archives of my failed relationships to pull out some gems and the past is a scary, scary place.
I do plan on staying strong in my quest for peace and man fasting. I also plan on attempting to grow some more plants. I think I will get some new seeds though and throw away those old ones so I don’t give myself a complex about the lack of my green thumbedness. I should probably do a little more reading up on the gardening thing, although, I had a successful garden one year. Maybe it doesn’t count if I’m just growing all the easy stuff like cucumbers, and peas, and tomatoes. Maybe that’s the problem in my relationships, too. I keep trying to do the easy stuff and then when it gets tough I abandon post and leave the greenhouse zipped up in the sun. I need to work on my green thumb. In all aspects of my life.
RouletteWeekend 