Just an update: so far, it's been really neat having Andrea at work with me on Monday nights. Last week I missed working with her because I called in sick on Monday, but tonight was fun. We took a break together, and talked in the break room. We even split an Entenmann's cupcake. It was very sisterly and cute. Sometime soon we will also work together on Saturdays, which will not only be more fun, but more economical and environmentally sound since we will take one car and only use one parking space in our overly crowded downtown area.
Now to the main point I wanted to make.
Being a former English major, I tend to notice the symbolism in things that happen as part of everyday life. It's like I attach special meanings to things if they seem particularily striking or literary in nature, almost like, you couldn't write that better, even if you tried. To me, little things can be very meaningful.
Lately, I totally forgot to water the ivy plant that S gave me on Valentine's day as part of his rose-chocolates-dinner surprise. I noticed it wilting yesterday, and immediately gave it attention, but what I really needed was potting soil and some fertilizer so this thing doesn't totally call it quits. Water seemed to revive it, though, as this morning it looked much better. I informed S of my neglect, and how I felt bad about it.
"It's not symbolic, Beth."
"It's not?" I quizzed.
"No, if it dies, it doesn't mean anything about our relationship."
"Really? Okay, great. Not that I'm planning on killing it, but just knowing that helps."
Great relief washed over me at that point. I knew that the ivy plant really didn't mean anything, but because S gave it to me, it does mean something to me. You don't kill a puppy you get as a gift, you don't donate the books you've received as presents, and you (meaning me) certainly do not intend to let an adorable little ivy plant die.
Potting soil and special nutrients are at the ready for a re-potting tomorrow morning.
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