I picked him up at the Freshers’ Fair: I heard on a podcast that there is scientific evidence that having plants in a room can improve your feelings of serenity. But who am I kidding? The real reason was that I thought his beautiful blue ceramic pot would go with the cosy yet ‘edgy’ aesthetic of my room.

It made me feel slightly less cool, however, when pretty much everyone in the queue had the exact same plant.

The salesman at the till knew what he was doing when he convinced me to buy some ‘plant food’. Obviously the last thing I wanted in all this Fresher’s pandemonium was to be responsible for a dead plant, so I reluctantly handed over another few quid and wandered away with the little bonsai at my side.

Plant parenting is a challenge during Freshers’. You are constantly on the go, to the point that you don't even have a few spare minutes to take care of a plant, let alone yourself. My bonsai often stares at the shut curtains all day, an indicator of my complete inability to think about anything else in the morning but my poor, fatigued body. Sympathy please!

And I’ll be honest, I’m a bad mother. Even if the curtains are open you’ll find him perched on the sill above my bed, staring hopelessly at the bleak Cambridge sky, begging for a little glimpse of sunshine; I must say I share the sentiment.

"My plant's life should not rely on my complete erraticism and failure at time management"

Occasionally in a flurry of panic at the near death of my bonsai (yet to be named), I throw in a bit of plant food and just hope he survives the week. This needs to stop. Perhaps I am struggling with female identity crisis, unable to conform to the maternal expectations inflicted upon me by society… or perhaps I’m just making excuses. My plant’s life should not rely on my complete erraticism and failure at time management.

The point at which I begin to nurture my plant will coincide with the moment I embark on a programme of self-care. It is difficult to find a moment in these first few weeks to stop and relax; breathe and feed my plant. But as soon as I do, you will catch me (or hopefully you won’t) lying in bed at 8pm, cup of lemon and ginger tea in my hand, bonsai on my right, as we cosy up to an episode of Planet Earth. I think he will like it. 

Hopefully my plant’s growth will be an active metaphor for my mental, and perhaps even physical, growth over the next three years. At the very least let’s hope he makes it out alive.