I often find myself cursing my forgetful nature. Yeah, sure I end up with some pretty funny stories. I once spent a full 5 minutes looking for something in the freezer before my mother asked what I was doing. I didn’t realize my folly until after I replied with “Looking for a spoon.” In an attempt to combat happenings more serious than this (i.e. forgetting classes, appointments, and various other important obligations), I have developed an intricate system of alarms, reminders (both digital and human), a personal calendar, and check lists. I am proud to say that I have not forgotten to eat in three weeks.

However, sometimes being an airhead has its benefits. I am going to tell you about one of those benefits…

The summer of 2015 found me making plans left and right. One week in particular, I planned an extra busy week. I crawled through it, one day at a time. It was fun, but the sheer amount of stuff I had to do each day was suffocating. Thankfully, my forgetfulness had a plan.

I was staying the week at my parents’ place, and my boyfriend, Sam, was visiting. I work up early Friday morning, showered, and got dressed. I was preparing to leave for that day’s plans when I began questioning why my Sam hadn’t gotten ready yet. After many piercing questions directed towards the man unlucky enough to call himself my boyfriend, my mother pointed out that my plans were scheduled for Friday.

“Yes,” I growled, glaring at Sam’s pajama bottoms.

“So where are you going today?” Mum asked me. I started explaining all of Friday’s plans to my mother (for the umpteenth time). In the middle of this, she decided to start laughing and say, “Katherine, it’s Thursday.”

Of course, I didn’t believe her. First, I bristled with irritation. How can everyone in this house me so dense? Then, the icy fingers of doubt touched my mind. My phone was swiped open before it was even in my line of sight. I pulled down the menu at the top of the screen to see, written in tiny letters, Thursday.

I was utterly shocked. Right when I needed a chill day the most, I got one. I actually gained a day I had not had before that moment, and I spent my extra day relaxing instead of running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

 

What would I like you to gain from this story of mine? I have no idea. What I do know is that since that day, I have come to appreciate one of my most endangering flaws. Because of my forgetfulness, I was able to experience a phenomenon few individuals ever have the pleasure of knowing. Because of this flaw, I was allowed to live one extra day. Because of this flaw, I bought a personal calendar and now cross off every day as it passes.

There is always a little good in everything bad, even when that bad thing is a personal flaw.

***

On a different note, want to meet my plants?

Since starting college, I have brought 11 plants into my heart. I have also managed to kill 8 of them. The fallen foliage has included everything from cacti and succulents to two air plants. However, there are three that still live.

Meet Jose and Josephina (The J is pronounced like an H). They are my twin Christmas cacti I bought from Walmart during the 2015 holiday season. They got their names because I had this weird voice in the back of my cranium telling me that Christmas Cacti came from Mexico. I still have no idea if this is true or not, and it is not an important enough question for me to research. I think they might need dusting. How do you dust a plant? This I might have to Google.

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Yesterday, I bought Jose and Josephina a little brother. I was at Walmart alone, which gave me the opportunity to wander. My deep love of plants brought my mindless feet to the garden section, where I saw many plants, most above $5 and requiring a lot of light and love my stony heart just is not capable of giving. Just before I left, I saw a lone leaf poking out of a pot in hopeful solitude. The pot had three clearance stickers, layered on top of one another, and the uppermost one declared that the plant was only 93 cents. Well, I bought him even though I have no idea what he is as the tag only presents basic care info and the word “golden.” I decided to name this little fighter after a man who had a really crap childhood and still managed to fight his way into a position of immense power.

Everyone, meet Adolf.

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DISCLAIMER: This plant was not named out of any love for Hitler or his actions. He was only named because I characterize my life with dark humor. I’ll also probably end up killing him, and I want to be able to say “I killed Hitler.”

 

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