I'm kinda bagged this week, you guys. Between systematically tearing each nook and cranny of my house apart in order to clean and reorganize every single, solitary thing that I own and 3/4 of the household being sick... I feel like wet toast; like my brain has sogged halfway into my neck. It's just stagnant, bobbing around in not enough water or something. I try to think thoughts and it gives a half hearted grunt and flips me the bird, then settles back into its boggy little pigeonhole inside of my head.
Speaking of that, we got some fish. One died. I poked it with my finger to see if it would react. Nothing. That's officially two dead animals I've poked now. Goldfish & beaver. I'm thinking of making some kind of commemorative wall to show company Wait, I poked a dead cat with a shovel when I was 8. So that's 3 things. A goldfish, a beaver and a cat.
I never meant for this to be something I kept a tally of in my mind. The other fish is looking not long for this world, too. I'm not sure what I've done to the poor fish. I've only had them for 2 days. How could I kill a goldfish in that short amount of time?? I used to be a total fish geek. I kept the same exact fussy fish for years. These are goldfish. Hardy (Or something.)I used to scoff nerdishly at goldfish owners. PSH. Getting a goldfish is not even trying, I thought. I don't know. Maybe they sensed my scorn and decided to just end it all.
Those dumb fish. Don't they know I'm good at loving them?
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Dear Brain,
Was that really the best post you could come up with?
From Michelle.
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Dear Michelle,
*flips the bird*
Love Brain.
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