Friday, April 18, 2014

Piscine Assassination

My nephew Brad inadvertently murdered a goldfish today.  Rita, who turned nine today, called my mother in tears--whether of rage or sorrow or a combination could not be precisely determined: it seems Brad had been pretending to be a grizzly bear flipping salmon out of the river with its paw, and he'd reached into one of his father's fish tanks and flipped out the unfortunate goldfish, which then expired.  Other than that, Rita seemed to have had a good birthday.

It seems my penpalship of some seven months has come to an LDC, from whom I always enjoyed hearing, and to whose notes I looked forward, has not written in more than three weeks, and I am being stubborn and refusing to be the first to break radio silence, as I have always found reasonable pretext to do in the past.  Clearly, my literary personality was not so winsome as I had hoped!  Well, there it is, as my father would say.

I applied for five more jobs in the last few days--one with a standardized test prep center, three with a standardized test grading company, and one with a bank.  Clearly, I am not being picky.  We'll see!

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