Sleeping With The Fishes.

Last Saturday, I was sleeping with the fishes. I didn't know it at the time, but I was.

Around 9 a.m., the puppy woke me up so we could go for a walk outside. I rolled out of bed reluctantly, shoved my glasses on my face and pulled on whatever sweatpants I could find first.

I stumbled down the stairs, put Milley's leash on her, unlocked the front door, and opened it.

...

I couldn't get out my front door. I scratched my head, yawned, and wiped the sleep from my eyes, telling myself to focus...what is that?

Cups of water?

With dead goldfish in them???

And my car is Post-It noted?

Also, do you see how my car is a bit blurry? That's because my front porch is Saran Wrap-ped.

Heavens.

No, I do not currently have any suspects.

I really wish I did, if for no other reason than to shake their hand and say "good job."