Last week, I noticed that the tile in my kitchen was wet. This is nothing unusual, as I'm frequently prone to spilling water from time to time, especially as I'm doing dishes or some kind of cooking. (This doesn't have anything to do with this post, but I want to point out here just how nice it is to be able to splash the counter whilst in the throes of cooking or cleaning and not have to worry about some psycho bitch from hell confronting me and telling me "There's water droplets in the kitchen sink, you need to wipe it clean every time you run the water in it.") It was the location of this wetness that confused me, though. It was concentrated around the front of the refrigerator, which initially lead me to believe that maybe I unknowingly purchased a container of juice that leaked, or maybe some ice slipped out and melted. Except there was no sign of leakage inside the refrigerator, and thus by a method of deductive reasoning that would impress Sherlock Holmes, I was able to determine that that was not, in fact, the source of the wetness.

I wiped down the floor and didn't give it much thought afterward. That is, until I noticed another puddle of similar size the next day. Which I then cleaned up, only to find it replaced by still more liquid the following day. I wondered if perhaps I do have a leak, but it was of another variety. I noticed it had a light yellowish tinge to it, but thought that might have been due to the dirt or dust covering the floor.

This week, I've been keeping an eye on one of my favorite house-warming gifts I got from a new friend here the day I officially moved in. It's a lucky bamboo plant. You know, one of those plants that's pretty much lives through anything, no matter even if you forget to water it for a month, or something. I love it, and I like to put it in the kitchen windowsill so it can get sunlight and fresh air during the day.

Only it's been struggling this week. A lot. An entire stalk of bamboo has been rapidly turning yellow. At first I thought it might not e getting enough water or sunlight, so I altered its location a bit to make things more optimal. Only it's getting continually worse, and it suddenly occurred to me tonight that the air in my kitchen is probably what's hurting it so much.

Which means, if I'm reasoning things correctly, precisely this: if the air is hurting my plant this much, it's probably not being too friendly towards me, either. The same probably goes for my food, as well. I'm thinking it'll be wise of me to talk to my landlord first thing in the morning, lest I breathe the gas-filled air too much and suddenly become one of those radioactive-induced superheroes. Though if it came to that, I'd definitely want to be The Tick.