I have nurtured two very healthy philodendrons. One has grown to be big, the other is huge. When we move across the street to our new office space -- probably the first week in June -- I will have no room for my beloved plants. So they have to come home ... where they will be relegated to my den and I will seldom see them. This is unfortunate but necessary, as I'm sure that if my cats saw these plants they would say, "Cool! Salad bar!" and just dive in.
So I brought my little luggage cart to the office, put the big one in a box and fastened it to the cart with cables. I took a cab home -- rush hour -- to the tune of $45.
I don't want this move. I like my office set up the way it is. I like my little shelves. I like my framed A Hard Day's Night promotional poster and my Cubs pennant. I like my files -- paper and in manila folders. Most of all, I like looking at my plants throughout the day, watching them grow, tending to them.
But this move is going to happen.* And so now that the big one is home, I have to get the huge one here, too. The pot is 20". I mean, it's impressive. As much as I love the one in my den, I love the huge one even more. I can't afford another $45 just now and I want to gaze at her a little bit longer. So I'll wait until next week to bring her home.
*Unless they let me go before June 1.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
What type of floor plan (aka Clown Car?) will your new office have?
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