02 February 2004 ~ Something Fishy

In the immortal words of a Carpenter, or lumberjack, or something "Rainy days and Mondays' always get me down".

For some reason I feel like a fish who has been plucked from a calm river where he was busy eating weeds and such, and thus used to slap an old fisherman, with stubble and a cigar, around the face before being plunged back into the water without receiving any notice or reason for the event occurring. Needless to say that the fish, that is I, would have reason to be more startled and put out by this than the fisherman who received the slapping, simply because I was the one going about my business without a care in the world, keeping myself to myself and not wanting to be disturbed - whereas the fisherman would at least know he had offended someone and would be half expecting something to happen (although to tell the truth he probably had expected some harsh name calling, or a sucker punch in the nasal region at the most, rather than to be prodded with force by something cold and wet which would normally be deemed as lunch. I'm quite sure this unsuspecting fisherman will think twice before sticking his fork into his dinner in future, and may go so far as to be disturbed by the dead eye staring back at him with a cold knowing glance.)

However, I have no sympathy for the imbecile who plucked me from my icy solitude and used me in such a manner, with no warning beforehand. One day I will swim to new shores and they will find, when placing their hand into the murky water looking for an item to use, that I am not there and any slapping will have to be done with their own bare hands...scaled or not.