Dear Awkwardness,

I think I've learned my lesson that fish are a lot more trouble than they are worth. When my roommate agreed to fish-sit the neighbors pair of goldfish we all came to learn that they really are smelly, greedy creatures. We even secretly wished they would die, but this morning when one of them actually went belly up we weren't prepared. We got a friend to dump it in the toilet and flush it. Much to our surprise the next time we went to the bathroom a live goldfish was swimming in the toilet bowl! I don't know how it survived a flushing when it was supposedly dead. What can I say? It's a miracle fish. We felt bad about already telling our neighbor the fish was dead. We now felt extremely bad that it resurrected and was living in our toilet, not to mention that the other goldfish was showing signs of depression. We had to do something. So, we decided to go fishing. Our choice of tackle? A plastic spoon, a plastic knife, and a mason jar. It was a nice little fishing adventure that my roommate and I had in our bathroom. In case you're curious, after about half an hour of fishing we did get the fish out alive and returned him to his fellow goldfish. Needless to say, our apartment hates goldfish now, and a toilet does not make a good fishbowl.

Your friend,
Rachel