I don't remember where I read this line from, but I think it's true; well, for some fish at least.
I'm sitting in my room, back from work after a tiring day, and I'm itching to blog something, but the fighting fish in their glass containers next to my laptop distract me too much. I know that they are hungry, especially the skittish female I call Dot (she was tiny when I bought her). Dot in particular is eyeing me with a hungry interest (feed me! feed me!) and she knows (or I like to think that she does) that I am eyeing her, so she skits around even more crazily, waiting for me to feed her.
Yes, I know I've got nothing better to do than to blog about fish, much less spend time goggling them when I should be doing more productive things (clean up the mess that is my table perhaps???), but there's something about fish, fighting fish in particular, that I find very entertaining. I just like to fluff around, I know.
You would too after a hard day's work. I feel as if I work in a place surrounded by predators, something along the line of sharks, ready to snap at me like they've not set eyes on food for months, dogging my every move, so should I so much as yawn and miss a second in getting their medications out to them sooner, they'd complain to say that I'm sleeping on the job.
Give me my fighting fish anytime. They may be territorial, but at least they're not out to stake a claim on my blood.
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