It's 3.30pm and I'm finishing the design of a very complex universe at work - yes, really, I am. Not something from Magrathea, no, but that's what I do as a day job: design universes. Actually I work in business intelligence and the software I use to set up systems to interrogate big databases is called Business Objects - the resultant interface is called a "universe".
So it's half-three and the phone rings. It's my husband who I left at home in bed with man-flu this morning. He's been up and about and says that one of my catfish is stuck in the aquarium. Now this morning I remember seeing a bit of plastic pipe floating on the surface of the water - I pushed it back down to the bottom, weighted it with some gravel and realised the catfish was still in it. I thought he was probably a bit scared and he'd come out when I'd gone.
Husband insists this is a domestic emergency and I need to come home to rescue him (the fish or husband? I'm not sure). Fortunately, I only live 15 minutes from work, so after much hilarity in the office, I drive home. And the pipe is floating with poor cattie tightly stuck in the bend. I try to shake him out but he gets more agitated and more stuck. Husband says we'll have to saw the pipe apart, so I find a washing up bowl and prepare to transfer tank water, fish and pipe.
Then I have a brain wave. I find a tube of face cream with a lid diameter slightly smaller than the pipe. Insert it gently into T-junction and push very slowly. Visions of squashed fish, but I persevere - and he moves a bit. Take out tube and look inside and he's definitely straightening out. Bit more pressure and a shake to dislodge his fins and he's out, straight to the bottom of the tank.
I told you - you couldn't make it up.