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Thursday, November 3, 2011

My fish died

And I'm not coping very well.

The little bastard was about 3 years old, I brought him when I brought my house - and now that my moving out is imminent (give or take a few months...I'm not in the mood for your nitpicking, all right?!!) he has left me...

...all alone...

...like everything else.

Ok, so I wish I was that melodramatic and theatrical, but I just can't pull it off with a straight face.  Like sometimes I wish I was stupid, and some stupid man had fallen in love with me ('cause god knows I scare off all the intelligent ones - why?  why can't such a big world produce one person to love me?! Am I such a horrific person? Why?!! *falls to the floor weeping bitter tears of a broken heart*) and we grew old together with a hundred kids, ignorant but blissfully happy.  And then I could be the type of woman who doesn't need to think for herself or worry about who to vote for in the next election or worry about the state and future of our country, or writing a thesis, or having a career, or caring about equality and sexism and racist factions of society.  The type of person who can get in a bad mood and throw her phone at the wall or go on a bender and trash a room or turn up to work drunk and get away with it all, and still end up blissfully ignorant and happy.

But I'm not.  Sensible, reliable and 'common sense' seem to be hard wired into my psyche.  I blame my ever practical parents.

Curse you!

So - back to the fish.  Every time I put a new fish in the bowl to be his friend - they died.  I like to think Fugs ('cause he was f*ck ugly) was a killer-badass-fish-of-doom, but more likely he was just a loner who had built up resistance to my bowl cleaning and fish-feeding habits.

A loner....

...like me...

...but not by choice.

Ok, ok, I'll stop.  Couldn't help myself.

But now I walk down my hall and look at the bowl (still full of water and fishy things) and feel sad.  I know I'm displacing thesis-zombie-stress onto anything and everything around me, but that doesn't automagically make the stupid feelings go away - you just intelligently recognise how stupid you are being, which takes away any satisfaction from acting stupid.

Curses.


***
Just found out my uncle passed from cancer at 4am this morning.

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