thirty

I don't have much to say, so I'll say this:

There's this plant in my front yard. This big, gnarly, thorny, bush-like thing. At first, I thought it was just an ugly bush. Then a very observant guest suggested, "Dude, I think that's a weed." And I agreed. Which was good, because I wanted to pull it up and I couldn't justify pulling out a perfectly good (albeit ugly) plant. The lady who rented this place before me was pretty old, and I didn't think it was unreasonable that she could have been watering a weed without knowing it. So yesterday I go out front with a shovel, ready to show that weed what for. Except when I take a good look at it, I see it's budding. There are two rose bushes in my little garden. This weed isn't a weed. It's another fucking rose bush.

There's probably some kind of lesson this experience should teach me. It seems lesson-y.