It’s hard to believe, but some people can actually afford a place with a little bit of land. Most of them just grow grass, but a rare few try to grow something else. Pot. Opium. Cocaine. Beets. But we’re not talking about them. We’re talking about the people who grow other, non-fucking-you-up stuff. They call these places of growing Gardens. Gardens can be full of flowers, which are pretty and quickly die, or vegetables, which are cheaper at the store but take a lot of work and probably won’t come up or will get eaten by bugs and slugs and deer and squirrels. Especially squirrels.
Gardens need three elements to grow. Seeds. Nutrients. Water. Love. Probably some gloves and tools and stuff. So that’s like five things? We got lost there.
You’ve got the love. So much love that no one wants anything to do with, just wasting away, withering on the vine. You just need some seeds and stuff.
The first thing you need to do is seriously overcommit at the gardening center. Sure, you’ve never managed to keep anything alive more than…well, usually the ride home — but this is going to be your year. Before this, everything you love died, or took out a restraining order—but that was all because you didn’t have enough stuff. So. You’re going to need a buttload of seeds, some already potted plants, some cut pots, um, some random stuff you saw as you were gathering all of this up. Fertilizer? Probably. Maybe some statues of owls or something. Put it all in the cart. Get a second cart. Everything in your life might be falling apart, but THIS ONE THING IS GOING TO WORK GODDAMMIT.
Also, now you’re not allowed back in that Lowe’s. But that’s okay. You left a message with your therapist’s answering service, and she’ll probably get back to you soon. Time to get busy planting. And from the soil of your endeavors a new life — your own — will be born. With Demeter as your witness, you will be reborn a better human being! (Pay no attention to the guy in the parking lot who’s staring at you because you just said all of that out loud.)