big fish, little fish, swimming in the water

Pete the fish is dead. I am responsible for this, mostly from my lack of attention. We named him Pete so as to easily allow for substitutions (all future fish will be named Re-pete) but I think I would like to take a break from fish for a while. He lived for almost two years, which is a quite respectable lifespan for a fish, but I can't help thinking that I could have squeezed out a few more months with a little more care and consideration.

I just read an exciting review of a kids' math story from rivka that I'm desperate to get for Bonzo, though he will not require said book for at least a year yet. It's called "The Cat in Numberland," and looks pretty fabulous. thistles, is this just the ticket for getting Nib and Cricket those math scholarships?

All the sleep I've been receiving is actually messing with my schedule a little; I'm having trouble getting to sleep at night, and having the most vivid and disturbing dreams. One of them (with sooo many layers of bad tucked into a tiny nightmare) involved my boss getting shot by someone we knew, and as I was trying to figure out which out of town hospital would accept her insurance, the crisis hotline to which I was speaking suggested that I contact the Human Resources department of our employer for advice. Ha ha, brain. Ha, ha, ha, ha.

The other dream involved me carrying Bonzo on my back with the hiking gear necessary for a long trip; we were walking through a British countryside, stopped at a mostly empty house to wash and rest a moment, and when it came time to leave I could not find and re-pack all the supplies into my bags correctly. Also, the occupant of the house returned with his dog (bonus! Doctor Who 11 reference!) and proceeded to be vaguely creepy. My supplies included cabbage, broccoli, bagged salad, extra shorts, a couple stuffed animals, and an apple. I had lost Bonzo's socks and shoes, and wished I had dumped one of the bags of broccoli so that I had had room to bring sunscreen. Then I wished for a drugstore nearby where I could just buy such things; apparently, my cash supply was unlimited, which begs the question of why I didn't just rent a car.

I'm really enjoying having a few days off work while feeling mostly well, and there is a lovely vase of flowers on my kitchen table and the promise of dinner tonight. However, it is giving me enough space and free time to really consider what I'm doing with this break and the incredibly frightening question of what I'll be doing with the next few years of my life. I'm not quite ready to face that, and considered the possibility of going to work tomorrow just so I would not have to deal too much with it. Happily, I have not needed the narcotic painkillers since Sunday, but the fact remains that I may need them more next week than I do today.

Now I must go clean the fishbowl. Sorry, Pete.