This is what its come to:

Yep, that's a Fish Condo. It's $31.50 at the Umbra store. I almost bought it today, but then the tiny green alien that only I can see or hear slapped me and told me not to spend my money on such garbage. But here's the thing; I regularly think about my fish as if it were a cat or a dog. Here are some examples:

1. When my first fish Gil passed, I was so distraught that I replaced him with a similar looking girl fish and named her Gilly.
2. When I went to Florida for a week, I left Gilly with a friend. I was very nervous in doing so and actually considered bringing her with me a la What About Bob? in a mason jar strung around my neck.
3. I have tested out 3 different fish foods and found the one she likes best.
4. I buy her "treats" (dehydrated brine shrimps).
5. She has a dark spot on her head that keeps getting larger and I am very concerned it is cancer.
6. I have Googled the sentance "How to diagnose/treat cancer in fish"
7. I cut down the fake plastic fern in her bowl because I could tell she wasn't enjoying how large it was.
8. I'm concerned she's putting on too much weight.
9. I want to get another fish so she doesn't get lonely.

That last one stung me real hard to type. Ugh. I am one of "those people". But seriously, can fish get cancer? I don't want to bury another fish! (This is some Erin Brockovitch shit!)

1 comment:

Renee said...


I feel like a cunt, but I can't stop laughing about the fact that your fish might have cancer. If it makes you feel better, you can laugh at the fact that my kid is probably going to end up Rain Man without the hot brother.