A planned day at the beach turned into a day at the local pool. It being closer and easier to get to. I'm not a very strong swimmer and I really despise getting my face splashed, so even the shallowest of kiddie pools can bring on panic symptoms if there's five billion kids... well... being kids in a swimming pool.
Plus Chaos thinks it's greatly entertaining to splash me for some reason. Maybe it's because it's a predictable reaction. Maybe it's because she so rarely sees me flustered.
Anyway, I took like seven million shots from my puffer and got twelve different cramps plus one time when my right knee decided to get a stabbing pain in the joint for no firkin reason.
BUT... I did actually swim one whole lap.
Read that part above about me being a weak, panicky swimmer and let that sink in.
I swam.
From one end of the pool to the other.
It took me about a quarter of an hour and I had to stop twice because my entire frelling family just HAD to get in my way. It would have been faster if one of them had given me a tow and firkin walked me to the other end.
For me, this is an accomplishment.
I had to keep my head above water and I'd have probably been more comfortable doggie paddling, but... I firkin did it. Which means I can try to do more next Sunday. It might even help me lose weight.
I know I dropped 0.2 kilos despite the luncheon of dagwood dog, deep-fried chips, and frozen Pink Stuff that initially tasted of pink and wound up tasting of bubblegum. 1000% artificial ingredients, there.
Time off DEFINITELY helps my emotional state. I should have it more often.