My Failure at Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse

            Perhaps the dead plant on my windowsill should have been a warning to me before I chose to binge play Plants Vs. Zombies for three days straight. The first day, much like the first time planting little baby seeds in a pot full of nutrient enriched soil, was exciting and fun and didn’t take too much work. I was able to beat the first few levels without much effort, and I could still look up and talk to one of my roommates or my boyfriend without dying. After the four hours on the first day passed I was excited for the next two days, waiting for my love of the game to grow and blossom. 

(my victory dance)

            Then the second day got a little harder. I guess not every apocalypse can be a delightful day at the beach. I’m not much of a gamer, and it got kind of boring to stare at a screen and try and kill zombies for hours on end. I remained optimistic though. No one looks into a recently potted plant and thinks that all the seeds were duds just because it hasn’t sprouted all of a sudden. Besides, it did feel rewarding when I beat a level on the second or third try. It was great each time I figured out the right strategy to defeat those pesky zombies. Yay me!

       Until day three. Day three convinced me that I’ll never be a gardener, and I’ll never, ever survive a zombie apocalypse. The roof level had me feeling as angry as the little fire stump guy looks.

(this is me raging over my defeat)

Those six hours were the slowest six hours of my life. I couldn’t save up enough suns to protect myself with the right plants to keep those stupid, annoying, jerk zombies from getting in the freakin’ chimney. I mean a bungee chord zombie that seems to only be killed by explosives? Are you kidding me? It was futile. I ended the binge like I ended my poor little plant’s life, leaving it forgotten where no one would ever be able to see it.