Another year and another failed attempt to grow basil in my apartment. My lack of patience, outdoor space and general knowledge has left me staring at a pot of dirt wondering why I couldn't keep my basil alive for the 3rd year in a row. Next spring, I'll have forgotten all the lessons I was intent on remembering. Therefore I'm compiling some tips to remind myself so I don't make the same mistakes again for next year's basil.

Each tiny seed in the packet is a seed meant to grow into a plant:
Because the seeds are so small, I usually convince myself I'd be better off dumping about 1/2 of the package into a single hole or "mass grave." No matter how much the package urges me not to, I can't help it when laziness is one of the options.

Plants need 3 things - Sunlight, Water and Food:
They don't need Vivaldi, a stern talking to or beer.

Making a contraption that acts as a makeshift window box is not advisable:
Since I don't have a backyard, front yard or fire-escape, window boxes are my only option to get my plants direct sunlight. For some reason, I've convinced myself that since sunlight is free, I should figure out free ways of getting my plants to it.

Don't get angry when the window box made out of tape and old books breaks:
Trust me, the people who are more upset about my crap box breaking are the people who almost had it fall on them.

Don't name your basil:
Ultimately, it makes people feel uncomfortable. Especially if it's a human name and you refer to it when recalling what you did over the weekend - "Lilly and I watched a movie."

Don't over water:
When my plants are looking sad, chances are it's because they lack sunlight. Unfortunately, since I can't coax more sunlight to come into my apartment, I convince myself that a little more water ought to do the trick. This is equivalent to giving a kid who has cut their hand off some candy to get them to stop crying.

Plants aren't as sensitive as I think they are:
I'm sick and tired of feeling like my basil is dying because it saw me naked.

Read to your basil:
I've heard talking to plants is beneficial to them, but it can be depressing for me. When I open up about my secrets and deep concerns in life, they don't really talk back. Note to self: research books that make plants happy. Do all research on a non-company issued computer so I won't have to explain why I'm researching plant porn. Again.

Appreciate other people's basil:
Going to the farmers markets and acting snarky to the people who have beautiful basil plants for sale won't make my crippled and unfortunate plant grow any better. Just because they have nicer basil plants doesn't mean I can refer to them as, "the Gestapo of the gardening community."

Stop referring to yourself as a gardener:
I might as well be telling people I'm a fisherman because I buy canned tuna.

When the plant dies, throw it out:
Watching a dead plant rot, while waiting for a miracle is both lazy and makes people uncomfortable. It's like wearing Crocs with socks.

Don't call anyone to mourn:
You are officially allowed to mourn the loss of your summer project for 3.5 seconds. Don't go put on black and stay away from the phone. This is not a time to share your sensitivity or else people won't pick up the phone when you call between the months of June and September.

Don't take it personally:
I've never gone over to friend's house, seen their less than successful gardening attempts and gone, "I knew it...they are completely worthless people." However, that's what I assume everyone thinks when they see my basil. I've developed a habit of not returning things just so I could blame my lack of pet sitting gigs on something other than my basil growing abilities.

Make better list for next, next year's basil.