Skip to main content

Dead Fish, Fat Pants, and Fat Heads

My fish died today. It was a betta fish that I had named "Tester." Tester was alive on Saturday when I was at work dealing with all of the fun stuff that had set my weekend askew to begin with.  This seemed like a perfect end to the weekend.

I came in to work this morning and went to feed Tester. Even going so far as to actually put food in. It was a good 3 minutes before I figured out he was actually dead.

That fucking figures.  I tried to give myself the pep talk about perspective, but nope. Wasn't working.

And then I realized that, no matter what role people place me in at work, I was in fact allowed to have a bad day. I was allowed to feel sadness. To react to bullshit with something other than a smile that said 'things are going to be alright.'

I'm not a fucking idiot. I know it's $5 fish. I know it can be replaced. But it wasn't really the fish. It was the routine. It was the surprise moments of joy. It was the ability to just watch Tester for a few minutes and feel calm. Given everything that is going on in our world, I didn't want to post this on Facebook. It's not like losing a dog, or a friend. It's a fucking fish. So I didn't want all of the 'sorry for your loss' posts (not that there would or should be any...did I mention it was a fucking fish?!?!).

Thing is...the loss was not from the death of the fish. The loss was from the joy that having that little bugger in my life brought.   The true loss is from the fact that I did derive so much joy from a $5 fish. It's so odd. A co-worker took the death even harder than I did.

So...I started the above post Monday. This past Monday. And to be completely honest, I'm sure I had a direction in mind for the post, but I'll be damned if I can remember it now, 6 days later.

If it's any kind of indication of the week I had, I can only remember taking 1 maybe 2 actual lunch breaks at work. The remainder of the week I was scarfing things down on the fly. Things were a bit hectic at work, but 3 years later I still love the job and still believe that I can make a difference--both of which are vital to job satisfaction.

I know that I had put something on here about Fat Pants because I had to break them out this week, but truthfully--I don't really want to talk about that now.

I went to the viewing of a friend Tuesday. I shot his son's Senior Photos and shot his wedding.  I saw my photos on their memory boards at the funeral home. I felt humbled. To know that I had a hand in capturing their memories truly was a blessing to me.

I'm going to go ahead and post this now. It's not as complete as it was in my head when I started writing it last week, but I don't know that I can change that now.

Happy Sunday my friends!



Popular posts from this blog

Marriage Material??

I had a friend call me today, fuming. I consider myself a good listener on most days. Considering that I was out of town on a work trip and doing absolutely nothing in my hotel room, my listening game was on-point.

She recounted the exchange that sent her off. I will spare you some of the more personal details, but the gist was, at one point, the dude-bro she was talking to flat out told her that she wasn’t marriage material.

Torn between wanting to be a supportive friend and being completely gobsmacked, I felt her frustration. No. That’s not quite right. I didn’t feel the same frustration she felt. I’m approaching what some consider middle age. I’m white. I’m primarily interested in women. Oh, and I have a penis., I can never truly feel the same frustration she was feeling. Or an anger that comes from the same place her anger came from. No matter how in touch I am witn my feminine side (whatever the fuck that actually means).

Instead, the frustration and anger I was feeling w…

Post Con-Fusion

It's 5:40 AM on a Wednesday. I have been up for an hour. I have an outline for a work in progress that I intended to work on this morning. I was in the middle of a chapter that I started at lunch and had every intention of continuing this morning. But, much like me, it seems the characters wanted to sleep in today. They wanted to just hunker under the covers as the rain danced its hypnotic melody on my roof. The swoosh swoosh swoosh of the ceiling fan keeping time with the rest of the nocturnal orchestra.

So, I shifted gears. I am taking  a course on getting more words on the page. Something that I want to do need to do if I am to get all of these books that are floating around in my head out in to the world. It's not so much that I think the whole world will love and adore them, although I certainly hope that is the case. No, it's more the fact that it's getting crowded up there. I need to get these words on the page for my own sanity as much as anything else.


The Kindness of Strangers

This post is going to be a little bit all over the place. If you know me, you are probably used to that by now. If you don't know me, welcome. My name is Todd. I'll be your slightly insecure author and docent on this tour of randomness we call Todd's Mind.

I am going to get a little real, and probably a little raw here today. I would normally be terrified of that. Of exposing myself to the world at large. But in looking at the stats for this blog in the 22weeks or so since I've left Facebook, the reality, I'm exposing myself to about 10 of you. Less if some of you come back and re-read some of the posts. So...yeah. Here goes.

I can count on 1 finger the number of times including today where I have run out of gas. Not talking about pulling into the gas station on vapors, but actually having the car die and coast to a stop because that life-giving dead dinosaur juice was no longer in the tank.

One time.


It's my own fault. I don't like to admit when I&#…