The Little Office of Horrors

I want it clearly understood that I have NEVER brought in a single plant to my office. Not one. Not. One. And yet, over the years, I have inherited a small grove of ficus, spathiphyllum, dracaena, dieffenbachia (which I don’t even like,) spider plants and who knows what other vegetable oddities. All of these drifted into my life as orphans on the brink of death that I rescued from turning into potted sticks. My reward for saving them from stickhood was more people turning their neglected plants over to me. So now I’m taking care of 26 plants there.

This is no high-end horticulture we’re talking about. I water everybody on Friday, occasionally take a pair of scissors to the most rank overgrowth and wish them all a hearty “good luck.” That’s it, that’s all, and yet, they thrive. These are some tough ass plants. I figure if my efforts are insufficient, then they need to take themselves off to houseplant hell.

The biggest drawback is that on Fridays, I’m trapped at the kitchen sink filling up several gallon jugs to go water the troops and natch, that’s when my co-workers come loitering around to chat me up. Am I a bad person for not enjoying these moments of bonhomie? Most of these are people I’ve worked with for the better part of twenty years and if they’ve ever had anything interesting to say, they’ve withheld it from me.

Including the more-than-zaftig Lady who I ran into today as she was microwaving her Lean Cuisine lasagna in the middle of the afternoon. She confided her new diet focused on several small meals throughout the day. I considered asking if a Lean Cuisine constituted a “small meal.” Aren’t they supposed to be sort of, you know, lunch? But then I realized how little insight I have into the Lean Cuisine world and besides, I didn’t want to get into it. I had plants to water.