Those who know me know that I like learning about fish. I’ve had clownfish and a yellow tail damsel since 2011 and I dream of having a 75 gallon beauty one day. Instead of that, I had a 30 gallon hexagonal tank (a gift) which made cleaning a problem. I had to stand on a stool in order to reach deep into the dirty water to scrub the glass while trying to avoid bites from my feisty clownfish named Hannibal.
During the past spring break, I had a vow to be PRODUCTIVE! I didn’t want to spend the vacation lounging and doing nothing while wallowing in sadness, so I made a list of tasks to do.
I woke up early: PRODUCTIVE!
I made coffee: PRODUCTIVE!
I put on Singin’ in the Rain: PRODUCTIVE!
I painted a picture of Edward Scissorhands: strange, but PRODUCTIVE!
And everything was going according to plan. Until my mom informed me that my aquarium was leaking.
Now in the past, I used to panic when this happened (hexagonal tanks are prone to leaks, so this wasn’t the first time). But after I purchased aquarium silicone, I no longer feared leaks. I would take out some silicone, and with a karate-kid meditative focus, I would carefully caress the silicone across the leak and voila – it would patch right up! And for months it would last.
So this time, I had the leak under control. I grabed the tube of silicone, located the source of the leak, and did my thing. Squeezed the silicone out. Slowly applied it to the leak. The leak stopped. And then a bead of water seeped out. Groaning, I did it again. Squeezed the emptying tube of silicone. Slowly applied it to the leak. Drip, drip, drip.
Now, I was getting frustrated. Not only was my previous method not working, but the silicone refused to leave the tube. I took scissors, jammed it into the opening to dig out any hardened pieces of silicone, squeezed the tube, but nothing still came out. And the tank still leaked. By now my hands were coated in the gummy stuff as I fought to get more of the gel from its constipated crumpled tube. I rubbed it on the leak with desperation.
And the leak opened up to a good inch. Now dirty aquarium water poured on my face as if the tank was urinating on me in an act to assert its dominance.
I was done with this hexagonal nightmare. I had been wanting a new tank anyway, so we rushed out to the nearest pet store to purchase a new one. I knew what I wanted: an emergency 20 gallon tank with a lighted hood. That was all. One day I’d venture to a larger fancier tank, but at that moment, I needed a 20 gallon. Luckily the pet store had just what I wanted.