Why I Should Not Care For Living Things

It turns out I only appear to be responsible. 

Or, you know, as responsible as a grown up person who lives in her childhood bedroom in her parents home can appear to be.

That is, so I thought. 

Until my entire sense of self worth was thrown into an abyss of uncertainty after an unfortunate near-death experience  (see The Weekend I Almost Killed My Dog On Accident).

Upon reflection, I've realized that I actually have an extensive history of irresponsibility—specifically as far as other living creatures or organic materials are concerned.

Just ask my Ficus plant. 

This is what a Ficus plant should look like

This is what my Ficus plant looks like after 5 years of tender love & care...

Note the adorably whimsical sign my very helpful work cubby mate attached.

 

 

I rest my case.