moving on up

Psych is in a new home. My mom found my old fishbowl buried in a closet and I just put him in it. He's still kind of freaking out a little. He almost gave me a heart attack when I tried to catch him with the net. He was flipping around so much that I thought he was going to fly out of the bowl. He didn't, though, or this would be a much different story.

I was looking for this particular fishbowl the other day when I decided to buy a fish, but I couldn't remember where it was. I haven't used it since freshman year when I was bored one night and went to Meijer. I bought the bowl and a little treasure chest for the fish to frolick in. I bought two goldfish, named them Skippy and Scuba Steve and they lived happily ever after. For like a week. I came back from class one day and found Skippy floating at the top of the bowl, and Scuba Steve had taken a few bites out of him. Scuba Steve, damn you! Hee. Scuba Steve, if I remember correctly, didn't live much longer. Maybe he caught Skippy's disease because he resorted to cannibalism. I don't think I was too disappointed when the fish died, because they'd only cost like a dollar each. Mostly, though, because winter break was coming up and I really had no idea how I was going to transport them home.

Right now Psych is swimming rapidly from one end of the bowl to the other, like he can't believe there's so much room. He hasn't really paid too much attention to the treasure chest, though, but I'm not sure he'd fit in it anyway.

I'll probably wake up tomorrow morning and find him stuck in it or dead or something.

It's OK, though. He's still under warranty.

I'm sorry I've been dedicating so many posts to my fish. I promise to stop soon.