It’s so hot. Sooooo hot. It’s the kind of hot where you sweat when you step out of the shower, which makes me believe that showering may be a waste of time. And, it’s only June. It’ so hot that I considered joining a pool, something I didn’t think I would need to do until our kids become walking age. But it’s so damn hot. So, I searched online.
I’m not a water person. I’m not an outdoor person. Have you seen my picture? This ginger isn’t so attractive after a day at the pool or at the beach or a few minutes in a Walmart parking lot. I’m convinced that every Walmart is a gateway to Hell. I burn faster within a five-mile radius. Give me ten minutes outside with out sunscreen and prepare to nurse my blisters the rest of the day. Of course, if I’m going to be out – let’s say at the Farmer’s Market (because that makes me sound trendy when I really should be saying “the line for giant corn dogs at the state fair”) – I will slather on sunscreen. And I don’t care what people say about the number on the bottle. If one reads “80” and the other “25”, I’m buying the “80”. I’ll give it a chance. I wear hats, sunglasses and make sure to reapply sunscreen if I’m out for the long-haul. I do this so that I don’t end up in an oatmeal bath or need to wear The Hubbs’ baggy clothes for a week or need to change my personal theme song to “Rock Lobster.” Imagine my glee when I found an indoor public pool. The heavens are listening! I’ll admit that “public” can sometimes mean “Hey, come swim with that homeless guy who hangs out under the 540 bridge while he takes his monthly bath.” But this place is pretty swanky. Well, it looks swanky from the pictures online. I haven’t actually been to the facilities to check them out. However, from the online info, it seems that I can take water aerobics in the mornings. Hello! I can swim with a bunch of grandmas and be the best looking one there. Take that, golden girls.
Finding a pool meant I had to find a bathing suit. Can I point out that just because I would rather have a suit with a skirt because of some “issue areas” doesn’t mean that I want to look like a two-year old with a frilly bottom. And nevermind trying to find a maternity suit (yes, maternity – there’s a baby in there, so they tell me) that provides my lower half with some decent coverage. Oh, and one that provides ample support up top? I don’t want to accidentally practice nursing on the guy that isn’t looking where he’s swimming.
I just want to get some exercise. And get out of this heat. And do it some what fashionably. And beat those grandmas at their own game.
How long until fall?