Today was a lucky day, in that I picked a greenhouse (another procrastination project, don't ask) that just could NOT give me enough freebies. Some guy was trying to clear out stuff from previous displays and... well, there's an aquarium in the kitchen now that is too small for the two pond goldfish he all but literally threw in.
So I've got my first goldfish since I was about 7 and went along with my mother to visit her nearly 100-year-old-aunt who lived out of town, leaving my older brothers and sisters to look after my goldfish, which had migrated over the course of my increasing disinterest to living on the shelf over the washer and dryer in the bowels of the basement. You have to think about how many times teenagers are likely to do the laundry while their mom is out of town to guess how many days it took for Goldy to meet the toilet.
I am worried about these two. They have the best I can give them, including water from a tank at the pet store, but they are huge. One of them looks totally panicked, racing around the other one who appears to be conserving energy.
That's not why they made the diary though. It's the staring. I had forgotten how much time you can spend just staring at fish! even if you're not worrying, probably.