a metaphor?

My lovely friend B. gave me a plant to put in my office window. She has been through some tough periods in her own work experience, and she thought it would cheer me up. Here's what it looked like last Wednesday, when I put it on the sill:

And here is how it looked today:

Ack! Those of you who know me won't be surprised: I've never had a way with plants. "Black Thumb," I believe it's called. This poor flower became the victim of my unpredictable schedule these days – I'm somehow supposed to be two places at once, all the time, and therefore cannot water it on a regular schedule.

I can't help but wonder if there's a metaphor in this for me. Could the plant be the program I've just begun directing? Flowering and thriving for 41 years, it now wilts under the pressure of budget cuts and the advent of the corporate university. Or is the plant actually me? A modest bloom that quickly dessicates and crumples beneath the weight of administrative responsibilities and separation from my spouse.

I doused the plant with water shortly before I took the latter picture. At least a few of the leaves began to perk up slightly. Let's hope this is a positive sign for both my psyche and career!