From the title, you may sense a blog post that can only be described as a rambling screed. I had a consecutive day blogging streak going on that had extended over a month, although I didn’t realize that until I was preparing this post. I had a scintillating blog post planned for yesterday called My Goldfish Has a Tumor. I was all set to keep the daily blogging streak that I didn’t know I had alive, cramming the heads of my readers with more nonsense than one can reasonably be expected to contain within their craniums. And then it snowed. And snowed some more. We got what I eyeballed at about a foot of snow. For my foreign readers, that equates to something-something centimeters of snow.
You know what’s bad about when everyone around you has a snow day off from work and school?
When you still have to work because you work from home. Ugh. Our house was filled with my daughter and her 9 year old and below friends all afternoon squealing in delight and spending what seemed to be hours locking my daughter’s bedroom door from the inside and then unlocking it from the outside with a paperclip. Can it be that fascinating? And so I worked. I did finalize a small sale of medical equipment to a luxury hotel spa in Azerbaijan, which is my first sale ever to Azerbaijan and now gives me purpose in my life to know how to spell Azerbaijan which is actually pretty easy. I’m hoping for no sales ever to Kyrgyzstan as I find that much more difficult to spell.
I was out clearing snow three times yesterday, so I was tired and didn’t have much time to post a blog. But I also didn’t have much to say about my goldfish’s tumor. I thought a couple pics would say it all. It would be an easy post. And then it exploded. Not the goldfish, but the tumor. It had been a perfectly round half-sphere up to when I went to take the pics. What did I find? Protuberances I tell you, protuberances! See for yourself …
Stuff was now hanging out of the tumor which I am guessing the other fish would try and eat because goldfish try and eat anything and everything. I can’t blame them when they try and eat their own poop on the bottom of the tank because the pellets I feed them that float on top of the water also look like poop. I guess I am a poop-eating enabler. Another line for the old resume.
I felt bad for Sarah. That’s right, the goldfish has a name. Besides the tumor, it has sort of a wonky eye, so I named it for Trump spokes-model Sarah Huckleberry Sanders.
Yep, that’s the eye. I had figured that having a large tumor growing out of Sarah’s side was not a good thing, but it’s not like I was going to take the fish to a vet. Most of my earnings already go straight to our vet for the care of our two geriatric dogs. And yes, they also both have tumors, but not wonky eyes. Get ready for a dog tumor blog post! Coming soon!
I was ready for a burial in the porcelain mausoleum once Sarah succumbed to the tumor. Flush!
And then it exploded. It appears to be changing shape hourly. I’m hoping no alien shape-shifters are involved and inside.
So that’s my story …
- Blog post streak broken.
- Worked through a snowstorm.
- Kids romping through the house.
- Made a sale to Azerbaijan.
- Fish named Sarah.
- Sarah’s tumor explodes.
That’s quite a life I live.