I used to have Oscars. Not the golden statues that actors win, but the Amazonian cichlids. Oscars are those big huge black fish that you see in pet stores, with the beautiful red markings. They have very large expressive eyes, and beautiful transparent, fanlike fins. It's actually a shame that pet stores sell them, because they start out so small and cute and then when you get them home and start feeding them, they start to grow, and can actually get to be about 12 inches long! My first Oscar was named Holmes, but when he got big he ate Watson, the other fish that shared his aquarium, so I renamed him Moriarty, after Sherlock Holmes' arch-enemy. Oscars are very voracious eaters. Moriarty would get so excited when it was feeding time, that you had to be careful not to get your fingers too close. One time my mom went to feed him and he got so excited when he saw her that he jumped right out of the water and landed on the floor!
Anyway, the funniest thing about Moriarty is that unlike any other fish I've ever known, he would lay down on the gravel, on the bottom of the aquarium, on his side. Like he was dead, but he wasn't--his eyes would still follow me around the room. Usually he did it if he was scared or traumatized by something, like me cleaning the tank, or moving it to another spot. But sometimes I think he was just tired of swimming and needed to take a break. It's kind of how I feel right now. I'm at a point in my life where I've finished something major and need to decide what to do next, but its kind of overwhelming, so I'm just taking a break and laying down on the gravel. I'm resting on my side, letting the water go over me for a little while before I get back into the current.