The Blessing of Invisibility

Week Three, January 2008

My blog mission statement and pledge: A few weeks ago, glowing with New Year’s enthusiasm, I jumped right into this blog-writing lark before I actually clarified what I expected to get out of the experience. Now, less glowy and more practical, I set down my expectations: first, having a blog will spur me to write regularly - to that end I will post at least once a week (probably on friday). Second, having an “assignment” each week will (I hope) force me to be more observant of my environment so that I will not drift thoughtlessly through my workday activities. I shall be a mindful plantlady not a zombie carrying a water bucket.

The content is bound to vary depending on what is happening during my weekly plantlady travels through Geekatopia (a semi-fantastical land populated with IT-types, software engineers, investment bankers, executives of every stripe and coloration, coffee house conspirators, CPAs, stock brokers, attorneys, and emergency room technicians, to list a partial cast). Each post will open with a poem and close with an office plant care tip. I additionally pledge to enjoy myself and share my observations honestly and freely with my internet friends.


Commute Haiku:

Rain-hued car rides
into the blind, boiling storm -
lights off, tires singing.


This week in Latte Land we have not missed much in the way of weather. We have had torrential rain, sloppy snow, followed by sheet ice and blinding sunshine. To seal the mood good and proper, the stock market discovered a sink hole, back-flipping into the abyss with nary a wave good-bye. Small wonder an especially virulent winter respiratory virus is making its rounds on my route - providing the discouraged populous with an excellent excuse to stay home, duvet pulled tightly to trembling chins. That kind of week.

A perfect week to be glad I am invisible - out of the line of fire, out of sight out of mind, out to lunch, out of range, down and out. Harry Potter has his cloak of invisibility - I have my plantlady uniform. Unseen, I make my way through a turbulent world, at one with all the other “invisibles” - the delivery drivers, maids and maintenance workers, security guys, copier repair people, coffee and vending service folks, fire extinguisher inspectors, caterers, shredder operators and dozens of other busy people. We are the white cells coursing through the corporate circulatory system cleaning, repairing, feeding - keeping the economic organism fit and feisty. (Yuk - creepy image - brings to mind the machines in “Matrix” - but accurate.) We invisibles are only noticed when we do not show up - when something breaks, runs out, or dies. Then our absence calls out loud and clear.

This invisible life is certainly not for those who live to command the spotlight - not the life for a Donald Trump or a Britney Spears. But I find my plantlady anonymity affords me a marvelous sense of freedom and objectivity. I can observe without getting caught in the grinding gears of the workplace. (I think it was Raymond Carver who said that the perfect job for a writer is that of janitor - I would add plant care technician.) Things falling apart in the office? Bottom line bleeding out all over the floor? As sympathetic as I may be, I am still free to walk out of your office once I have tended the plants - walk out of the stress and strain, shedding the tendrils of misery like water off a yellow slicker.

By the way, the first person to know your business is in trouble is often the plantlady. I have been seeing warning signs for months - long before the market tanked. Here is a hint: when the plants outnumber the people, things are not going well. When your bank cancels its plant service the bank is having trouble with cash flow (you know who you are).


Office Plant Care Tip: A word about coping with your plant’s seasonal affective disorder. Yes, they get SAD. Winter takes its toll on plants as well as people. Keep in mind that their metabolisms are in sleep mode until spring which leaves them vulnerable to many harsh office realities such as poor lighting and drying heat vents. You will water your plants less in winter when they are not actively growing but they are still apt to dehydrate if the heat is blowing on them - so try to increase the humidity by putting in a humidifier or setting a vase full of water near your plant. Pebble trays and misting are other options that can help. (Ficus trees can get especially irritable in the dark of the year, dropping leaves all over the floor - those beauties deserve an entire blog all to themselves!)