Secret Fishies

I just, ten minutes ago, developed a teeny-tiny secret. It's itsy. It's bitsy. It's a secret! (But, it really is microscopic.)

I won't be able to share it until next week. Again, it's nearly nothing, but in my world sometimes the subatomic particles create the biggest bang. (Like, when someone says they're about to take the trash out, but an hour later the trash still isn't out, and you're like OH MY GOD HOW CAN I DO ANYTHING IN THIS WORLD UNTIL THE TRASH GOES OUT? Or maybe you're not, because you're more fair and reasonable and will just take the trash out yourself if it's really impacting your ability to breathe and pump blood. I prefer to mutter mezza voce about the imminent demise of civilization.)

So, I just want to go into cryogenic sleep until next week when I'll know if the secret pans out (alas, failure is an option). And when you find out what it is, you'll probably think I "need a life." P'shaw. I'd much rather rejoice and sweat small things than have major drama.

We do have some medium-sized, well, not drama, but... buzz? But less positive. Ursula's been unwell for about a week. She's rallied a few times, but I don't think this can be anything but the end. (Actually, a week ago I thought it was the end, and after much poking and prodding and tilting and calling in Mike and both of us being very sad and saying good-bye, I lifted her out of the bowl, only to have her suddenly gasp and come back to measurable life.)

We thought it might be swim bladder or constipation, and maybe it is, but feeding her mashed peas isn't helping (and she's not excited about them like the first time we tried) and neither is a course of antibiotics that's about to end.

I sure do love that little pink fish. One way or another, I hope she's her happy self again soon.

Likewise, Arthur is looking very old lately. I wish we knew how old he was when he was adopted (almost one year ago). It was clear he was older, but he could've been anywhere from four months to a year past that. I feel like we just got these guys. How queer that, statistically speaking, most will be gone by the end of summer.

Plus side: a vet has opened up across the street. I don't know if they're any good or if they treat "pocket pets," but  having someone close is good so we'll have to check it out soon.

Actually, I just remembered that I have another secret, marginally connected to the aforementioned one, and somewhat related to fish. But, whether it comes to pass will take another month to know. So, yeah. Sorry about making vague hints about nothing really that interesting in lieu of providing actual content. (What's with all these secrets with conditions? Why can't I have a really straightforward sure-thing secret, like, "I won $74 million on a progressive slot machine, strange as that may be what with me never playing max bet but anyway, and I'm waiting to tell people until I can fly everyone in for a big party with Blue Oyster Cult performing.")

Oh wow, that just reminded me of yet another mediocre secret. Also not fer-shurred yet. Which I won't know about for two months. Geez Louise. I need to walk away from the computer and get my samosas in the oven ($2.24 on sale at F&E!) before buried memories of being a trained CIA killer start coming back or something.

28 February 2008 |



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Carnival Elation (2009)
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