I have some depressing news.

I think my fish may be dying.

Oh, the times Fernald and I have had together. First he was on top of my bookcase. Then he moved to the top of my desk. He has had many bowls, and many colors of gravel. Because that is easier than cleaning a bowl. Just getting a new one at the Dollar Tree. Or at least new gravel.
I bought Fernald on a whim after I graduated in 2006. I thought to myself, hey, I haven't had a fish in a while. So I got a little purple tank, and some gravel, and a tiny walrus statue. I picked Fernald because he was a nice mixture of both blue and red, which is close to purple, which is my favorite color.
Fernald's name was originally Bertrand. And then a few hours later it was Harold Ramis. And then about a week later he was rechristened Fernald. He seems happy with it.

Fernald has been acting weird for about a week now. I changed his water and stuff a few days ago and that normally perks him up, but he has been lingering in the corner of the top of his bowl for a day or two. His fishy chin (or is it his chest?) is gray. And most of the time he isn't even fluttering his little fins. He just...lays there. Drifting...drifting...it's really depressing to have a possibly dying fish in your room.

Should Fernald pass on to the big pet store in the sky soon, I hope he goes peacefully. And also when I'm not home. And maybe mom will find him first and flush him so I don't have to suffer that emotional trauma.

Those were the days...when Fernald was happy and shiny and bright.