I developed a special rule last year. That I would not buy flowers for myself (unless I decide to pot some plants for the summertime as my balcony decor). My reasoning behind it is that men should shower me with flowers. I shouldn't have to buy them for myself... like a loser would. I go shopping every week and I always fall in love with the flower displays that are placed right in front of the grocery store entrances. Although I'd gawk at the assortment of beautiful flowers for a good 5-10minutes, I'd stick to my promise of not buying flowers for myself and proudly walk away. I figured that only a weak person would buy flowers for themselves. A strong, independent woman wouldn't be caught dead buying them for herself. Apparently, my knight in shining armor has a late arrival date. Two weeks ago, I caved in to desire... and placed my loser potted flower in my shopping cart. I made sure I hid it behind a plethora of food items so that other shoppers wouldn't point and laugh at me while I wandered the aisles. I'm not the type of person who'd wave their single status in the air as if it were a rainbow flag and I was in a gay pride parade. I'm not a flamboyant-bachelorette. I'm sort of in the closet still. Anyhow, I take my loser plant home with me... two weeks later... THIS is what I have:
A DEAD ASS FLOWER PLANT.
Lesson learned...
I'm never buying my own flowers again
I'm sure this is a sign from the Holy Flying Spaghetti Monster.
I fucked up.
