(no subject)

I went into the kitchen this morning to find that one of my fish, Max, had jumped out of the bowl in the night and was tangled, dead, in the wires and tubes behind the bowl. It was horrible. I then left the kitchen and did not go back in, despite the fact that it meant no breakfast or lunch for me. I do not like -- in a phobia kind of way -- dead things.

While I was at work, my mother and father-in-law came over and took my poor little fish's body away and buried it in their garden. I have since found the courage to go back into the kitchen and offer my condolences to the surviving fish, Sam.

Really, not the best ever start to the week.

:(