Well, if you're anything like the flower I brutally massacred in my kitchen, then there aren't many perks. Unfortunately, my begonia is dead. A slow murder from the moment I claimed it as my own.
Begonias. Cruel flowers. But yeah, it's official. I slowly murdered that orange begonia Dexter-style, one soggy root at a time. I thought about taking it back to the shop, withered and dead, but then questioned whether it was really worth the effort. I guess that's how I started out feeling with it as well, so it serves me right that now it's toast, and not delicious covered in jam. But that gross hardened toast, then soaked damp with I Can't Believe It's Not Butter. What a mess.
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