There was no one in her daily life who knew or cared about her actual passion, much less shared in it. Both her co-teacher and their team assistant claimed to have black thumbs, and while Jordan knew she had a condo full of houseplants, Sumi suspected he viewed them much in the way as he viewed the coat tree or the bathroom mirror — something that existed, that was a part of the house, unimportant and unworthy of attention or discussion.
To have someone who not only cared, who was not only interested, but someone whosharedher hobby — who had wisdom to impart and exclaimed over how beautiful her collection was had been intoxicating. ChaoticConcertina’s reaction to her pink princess had been appropriately enthusiastic and admiring.He gets it! Someone actually understands!
A few hours later, when he sent her a photo of a pink variegated hoya, telling her it was called krimson queen, one of the many in his collection, Sumi suspected she was toeing her way down a dangerous path.
ChaoticConcertina:She looks like she would want to have tea with your Princess.
PinksPosies&Pearls:She does, I’m obsessed.
I kinda want to start staging my plants to have tea parties now.
ChaoticConcertina:And you should!
You can probably monetize the views on DreameStream.
By the end of that month, Sumi had realized she’d spent more time talking to ChaoticConcertina online than she had talking to her boyfriend Jordan, who slept beside her two nights a week. He knew that she was a teacher, and she knew he ran his own business. They didn’t know each other’s names or locations; didn’t know the specifics of each other’s lives outside of the broad strokes and had never shared face-identifying photos. Those details seemed strangely unimportant. What hedidknow was far more personal.
Sumi had confessed to him that she didn’t actually enjoy being a teacher, that she felt trapped in her own life, a trap of her own making, for which she alone held the key. She knew he was divorced and that his ex-wife had moved for work, drastically limiting the time he spent with his 9-year-old daughter.
Since then, they had settled into a schedule.
They were rarely online at the same time. She was an obligate early riser, her alarm having the temerity to go off each morning before the sun had even made an appearance, while he was a night owl, based on the timestamps of his messages. Sumi would send him embarrassingly long messages each morning, starting them before she left the house, finishing her thoughts sometime during homeroom.
By the time the 3 o’clock bell rang, there would be a response. His afternoon response would be brief compared to the book she had written, but Sumi no longer felt self-conscious over that. They would trade messages back and forth sporadically over the course of the late afternoon and evening, and then after she went to bed at night, ChaoticConcertina spilled his guts.
ChaoticConcertina:Have you ever considered
how much of our identity is sewn up in the brands we use?
The products we consume?
Loyalty to a particular brand of toothpaste.
A preference for one giant tech company-created cell phone
…over the other giant tech company’s cell phone.
The visible logo on the clothes we wear.
ChaoticConcertina:Whether or not you buy your dish soap from the supermarket
…or the superstore
or even worse!
from a giant online retailer who delivers it to your doorstep,
no interaction with your fellow citizens required.
I had a realization this afternoon, as I was placing an inventory order.
I used to get almost all of this stuff from independent vendors.
I had a basket guy, a box guy. The woman who did our packaging.
ChaoticConcertina:One by one, they all went out of business slowly.
I guess that’s the nature of the beast, right? Nothing stops the engines of commerce.
