Doing the right thing.

Not that long ago, my desk faced the family fish tank. It is not really much as fish tanks go, with just one goldfish and a Spongebob Squarepants key fob for company.

Remington (the goldfish) became a member of the family several years when he was a prize fish in some kiddy carnival at the local elemantary school. As he grows larger, so do his tanks. He lives in a twenty-five gallon tank now in something approximating fishy heaven.

I was thinking how nice it would be for me to not be staring at the Remington when I was not staring at my screen. I got yet another of my bright ideas, and started mentioning to Mrs. Troll that the fish was staring at me.

I know that fish are not very smart and do not do tricks or anything. They just kind of swim around the tank and taste everything that will fit in their fishy little mouths. I don't believe I have even seen Remington blink, so certainly he is staring at me, and everything else in his fishy domain.

After a couple of weeks, I mentioned that I was becoming convinced that Remington was a terrorist fish, with devious intent. Mrs. Troll looked at me with disbelief and asked how I would know that. Thinking quickly (Or not at all) I told her that I had seen it reading a little fishy Koran and wearing a little fishy towel on its head.

It was at that point that Mrs. Troll became convinced that I was really insane and began making arrangements to get me some professional help.

I did, after some time and fast talking, convince her that I was not crazy and that the whole thing was a joke and a way to get her to move the fish tank.

Several days later yellow sticky notes began appearing on the tank with messages like "I am going to get you, and your kitties too!", and signed with Remington's name.

So I did what I should have done in the first place

I moved my desk to the other side of the room, with my back to the tank.