I may have made up a word, or just have not expanded my vocabulary enough to know it’s real.  Either way, I like it.  And it’s what I did this evening.  Driving home, I was singing along absentmindedly to a song while swooping one arm out the window.  I wasn’t driving absently, I was merely singing and swooping absently.  There’s a difference.  I then realized that my arm was quite happy, swooping along, because it was reminiscent of being in water.  That did distract me from driving, but nothing bad happened at all. It was a short thought.  I got home, convinced Nikolai to walk down to the apartment’s pool with me, then chickened out because there could be people and the people might see me and think I looked silly.  Also swimming suits are difficult to maneuver onto my person, being as they are primarily composed of spandex and attitude.

We made it to the pool only to notice that our key (which I got last year) no longer matched the lock, but an obliging neighbor  uh. . obliged us, by leaving the other gate propped open.  This was not noticed, of course, until after Nikolai repeatedly attempted to unlock the gate with the key to my office.  Guess what didn’t work.  The water was nice though, I floated around like a confused manatee (in manner, not appearance) (okay maybe appearance but not body type) while Nick reclined on the warm concrete and stuck his legs in.

I decided to attempt a few laps, and promptly had a giggle-fit every time I had to get started in shallower depth.  The action of flailing my lower body into a more horizontal position made me think of a dog being put in water against it’s will, kind of like this:

But I did manage to swim a few laps in between giggles.  I am woefully out of shape, and swimming always reinforces this fact.  I was still breathing heavy when we got back to the apartment.  However, that is something of a downer ending so go watch the little dog again.

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