Total Immersion

I don’t get out much. That’s the sad state of things when you have (a) a job that ate your life, (b) three kids, (c) a travel schedule due to the job that ate your life that’s rapidly sucking additional time out of your schedule, (d) a large billet of home repairs and other crap to pay for.

So, I missed the blogger happy hour at Little Havana again. My exposure to people outside my basement has been limited mostly to time spent at the Coldspring Swim Club swimming with my daughter.

Coldspring is much more laid-back than Meadowbrook, where we’ve coughed up cash to swim for the past few summers. It also suffers less from affluenza and class warfare. (How many African-American kids would you find at Meadowbrook? Unless they were part of Michael Phelps’ entourage, zero.) The people are friendlier, there’s no fighting with the Hummers for parking space, and the throng is somewhat less massive.

So, net result–I’ve been to the pool more this year than I was almost all of last summer.


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