fishy thoughts

everyone has secrets. some people don't keep them for very long and some people take them to their graves. well, i have a goldfish to tell my secrets to now. his name is Shakespeare. i used to tell my secrets to my dog. i used to cry onto her little furry body. well, i can't cry into the fish bowl, but i know telling my secrets to Shakespeare is safe because he has a short memory. it's just nice to have someone to talk to and i won't feel like i'm talking to myself. there's something special about a pet, isn't there? i've been craving some doggy love for two years now, but all i can afford is a fish. he'll listen though. it reminds me of the movie "what about bob?" and his relationship with his fish, Gill. humans can become attached to pretty much anything. i was already freaking out when i brought Speare home because he didn't swim around much for the first few hours. now he's fine, but still likes to hunker down in this one spot on the blue stones. i'm a little afraid he's cramped in there. i think next time i'll get a beta. they are supposed to like small spaces.

buying this fish was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing. i tend to be an impulsive person, but sometimes if i don't do something impulsively i will never do it.

fish are fun. go get some.