life after sassyfins

Even with the loss of my goldfish, I have found amusement in the world. I’m like that, though, since I moved here from the soul-sucking vampire pit I used to work at.

For example, I found a streamer under my car tire the other day when I left work:



Was there a parade in the parking lot? Some sort of event no one told me about? Where do random parking lot streamers come from? And when they flutter away in the breeze as I drive away, where do they go?

Oh, wait, I know that one. Birds eat them and die.

I also fell in love with my immersion blender, using it to make apple and bleu cheese soup. My ingredients went from this:



to this:



without any hot soup exploding out of a blender like that time Martha Stewart and I got in a fight. I did manage to cut and burn myself, but at least I didn’t have to wipe down the kitchen again.

In other food-related amusements, Donna brought in this cupcake cake for Debbie’s birthday, and it was wonderful:



I liked it so much that I didn’t mention that spectrums go ROY G. BIV, not VIB G. YOR. People like you more if you keep your super-brain to yourself, which is why I won’t be calling Twisted Scissors at 588-2311 to tell them that I’d like to buy a vowel:



I before E and all that, except after C like in the word “receive”.

Or “recive”, if you prefer.

death in the family

Mr. Sassyfins, my goldfish, was dead when I woke up this morning.

When I moved here, because I was moving off campus, my friends were all excited about me finally living in the outside world. “You can get a plant! And a pet!”, as if I’d just gotten done with 28 days of rehab and needed to prove I could take care of these things and myself. Still, I got a cactus and a goldfish.

My cactus died four months after I moved here. I don’t know if I watered it too much or not enough or didn’t give it enough light or if it got too much sun or what. It still died.

Now my fish is dead, too, a few months shy of two years.

Should this mean something?

Mr. Sassy-fraud

Someone decided to gain attention by playing sick, it seems. He's fine this morning.

Is there an ichthyologist in the house?

Mr. Sassyfins has been floating on his side all night.



When I walk toward the bowl he swims down to the bottom for a few seconds, but then goes back to the side floating again.



I’m worried that in the morning he’ll be dead and I’ll be alone.