my week in review: a comedy of errors

so, i'm just going to give you the highlights, but suffice it to say that it's been one mere week since I had the tiniest bit of blonde put back in my hair and it instantly triggered the blonde that runs through my veins and lives in my marrow.

on wednesday morning i decided to check the mail on my way to work. since i'm lazy and i conveniently drive by my mailbox on the way to the rat race, i decided to make a quick pit stop at the mailbox on my way down the driveway to the daily grind.

i pulled over to the side of the mailbox, but out of the way of other cars that may need to traverse the driveway. i was wailing out the tune blaring from the speakers inside the car, and jumped out of the car - leaving the door open as i knew i would be popping right back in.

as i stepped away from the car and toward the mailbox, i couldn't help but notice my car moving steadily forward - toward the fence and busy street beyond.

yup.

i not only left the car running, but failed to even put it in park.

i have had nightmares where this happens and i am paralyzed and unable to make my foot slam on the brake. in those dreams my chest is tight, my breath is shallow and my legs and feet will not work.

if i can't stop an out-of-control car in my dreams - where sometimes i can fly - what are the odds i can do it in real life?

pretty damn good, it turns out.

oh, yeah! i was a rock star in real life. i was johnny on-the-spot. i jumped right in that car and slammed on those brakes - before any tragedy ensued. WHEW!!!

that brings us to this morning when i looked over at the fish bowl and couldn't find the fish.

having a probably natural, but definitely acute aversion to both finding and dealing with dead things, my heart instantly leaped to my throat as i feared the worst.

i approached the bowl with trepidation, all the time knowing that a 40-year-old woman should not be squeamish at the possibility of a dead goldfish. but i was.

with my eyes squinted, i peeked over the edge of the bowl and spied the poor fishy. he was laying on his side, eye wide open (like they are) with no obvious signs of life.

i picked up the bowl and swirled the water a bit to see if that would rouse the fish to action. no dice.

he did float up a bit and then, like a feather, slowly wafted to settle on the bottom of the bowl in his sad, fish-death repose.

at that point i sort of panicked - trying to figure out how to dispose of the body. i don't know if it's my addiction to law & order and true crime that made me panic, but i ended up with pretty much all my cupboards and drawers open while looking around frantically as the fish body lay in the bowl waiting for me to make the right decision.

i grabbed a ladle, then a bowl, then a tupperware, then a measuring cup. should i scoop up the fish and flush him to a burial at sea? should i scoop him up and dispose of him in a box of some sort that ends up in the ground or dumpster?

ultimately, i was creeped out at the idea of scooping up the dead body and flushing or boxing it. i decided i needed to move ahead with baby steps. i would slowly pour out the water in the bowl - making it easier, i suppose, to deal with its final resting situation.

as i moved the bowl from its usual spot to the kitchen counter, the fish didn't move. as i started to pour out the water, the fish didn't move.

after about half the water was gone the fish suddenly jumped in the bowl. i stopped. i sat the bowl on the counter. i looked at the fish.

it settled once again on the bottom of the bowl - laying sideways, that one damning eye staring up at me.

maybe it was some sort of death throe. maybe it was a last fight for life. whatever it was, i wasn't prepared to flush a fish with any sign of life left in it.

i decided to scoop the fish after all - using the soup ladle to retrieve the lifeless body from the bottom of the bowl. there was no flopping. no protest to being scooped from one container to another.

fortunately, i have a spare fish bowl. i filled it with some water and relocated the fish to his vacation home.

he settled to the bottom.

i stared at him.

his gills started moving aggressively and his mouth was making fishy-faces like he was working hard to catch his breath. he laid sideways and continued the aggressive breathing.

hmmmmmmm, i thought. i know it's early, but this might just be some kind of easter miracle. i am partial to christmas miracles - and i don't need it to be christmas time for one to occur - but given that we're in lent & all, i thought maybe this was a sort of resurrection scenario that was seasonally appropriate.

i watched the fish for the next couple hours (i tried to resist, but i couldn't - i was obsessed - this was a life-or-death situation and i just couldn't tear myself away from the drama). i also wanted to be emotionally prepared if i did have to perform that burial at sea that was interrupted by the surprise resurrection earlier.

as the fish fought for its life, i added water to the bowl. his first few attempts to reach the top ended with him once again wafting to the bottom like a feather. eventually, though, he made it.

he started to be less sideways and more right side up.

i gave him some food and he's now swimming around, good as new.

before i started the initial pouring of the fishbowl water, i texted friends and family to alert them of our dear friends' demise. after the fish perked back up, i had to send an update letting people know (particularly the daughter who won the fish at a state fair almost two years ago) that i cannot, apparently, tell when a fish has shuffled off this mortal coil.

that is a really lame text to have to send (except, of course, for the daughter who's glad her fish isn't dead).

apparently this is not an uncommon occurrence. savannah has a friend who's fish did this near-death thing five (5!) times! the fish did, indeed, die on the fifth occurrence.

i have decided to call the fish lazarus from this day forward, and i pray to all that is holy, that i don't have to go through this four more times!