So I got an aquarium. Calming, they said. Low maintenance, they said. Wrong. Wrong on every single level. First of all, this clownfish has the personality of a roommate who never pays rent and never leaves the living room. I have never seen him outside that anemone. Not once. Is he stuck? Is this a hostage situation? I've asked. He won't answer. The anemone looks like a blue shag carpet that ate a chemistry set, and my fish just parks in it like a recliner. Meanwhile I'm out here buying special salt and testing the water like a scientist with a problem. He gets a studio apartment made of stinging tentacles. I get a mortgage. Ten out of ten, would stress again. He did swim up to the glass today, so maybe we're bonding. Or maybe he's checking whether I brought snacks. I did. I always do. That's love, apparently. Love is buying marine salt with a coupon. My therapist says I should get a hobby that doesn't require a water test kit. The fish disagrees. Honestly, he's doing great. Glowing, even. Which is more than I can say for my sleep schedule. #clownfish #aquariumlife #petproblems
