Sorry for the typo.

I meant to say my Giant Monstera is my soulmate. I certainly should have done a better job of proofreading…my bad.

This guy is the cause of my freak injury. I know I should hate him for it, but he’s so beautiful, especially when backlit by the sun.

I can’t help but love the source of my trauma, my pain.

You can’t really see it in this photo, but the reason why I raced down the stairs in slippery socks (and fell HARD) was to get the Amazon package that contained the moss poles to help my BFF climb to new heights.

When we first met (at Trader Joe’s) and fell in love, he whispered to me that a little support would make him happy. Since I love to oblige, it was an easy request to grant, however, this proclivity of mine set the stage for me to become irrevocably injured.

Deep wounds take a long time to heal, but my love for this Giant Monstera will last forever. Pretty soon I’ll need taller poles and more support because he’s growing and thriving under my care.

Love hurts, but isn’t he gorgeous? My monster(a), my soulmate.

Update on my injury: Stitches came out yesterday (after two weeks) but were replaced by a dozen Steri-strips to help the eight-inch gash finish healing, which it is,  but at a snail's pace, probably because I'm not a very patient patient. I'm a much better caregiver. The recommendation was no strenuous activity for at least two more weeks or it'll open up again and I'll need more stitches and the doc threatened me with an aircast to immobilize my leg. "Threatened" might be a SLIGHT exaggeration, but that's how I interpreted her words...