About a year ago, I realized that if I ever wanted flowers, I would have to buy them for myself (I also take myself to the movies; it’s okay, guys. I’m only lonely some of the time). I was standing in line at the grocery when this thought occurred. This particular store has a section of “Manager’s Specials” near the register, or as I like to call them, “Sad Flowers.” They’re the flowers that are beginning to wilt or are too scarred on the petals to sit with the unblemished flowers.
On a whim, I went through the assortment of sad flowers, looking for the saddest ones of the lot. I eventually picked a bouquet and brought it home, much to my mother’s confusion. I clipped the stems, found a vase (vahz n.: a hollow container made of glass or plastic, such as a test tube or QT cup), and set my rescued flowers on the counter for display. (My mother, who thinks flowers are dumb but would rather me bring them home than pets, remained confused for about 3 rounds of this behavior before she just gave up.)
Buying sad flowers became an actual thing I do as a mark of celebration. In keeping with tradition, I bought a bouquet of somewhat wilted carnations to celebrate the end of the semester.
What weird things do you do when you’re celebrating? Do your parents/significant other/friends judge you or join in? Better question: what is the first thing you’re going to do with all of your free time once your semester is over? As soon as I leave here, I have a fantastic date planned with something of which I’m extremely fond. And no, it’s (probably) not what you’re thinking.