This evening as I was leaving the laundromat I thought that a swim would be nice.  There’s a nice, decent sized pool at the apartment building here.  But my swim suit I’ve had for going on five years now is no longer wearable.  The elastic in it is all stretched out and it no longer fits correctly.  On my route home I knew I’d be passing a store that has a fairly good selection of swim suits, so I thought I would torture myself and stop by and look for one.  The women reading this will understand why that was torture.  For the men, let me explain… First of all, it’s torture enough to go swim suit shopping unless you happen to look like maybe, oh, say, Uma Thurman.  Then it’s even more of a torture to limit yourself to one store when swim suit shopping. 

I only had three criteria for a swim suit.  I wasn’t being picky.  I just wanted it to be reasonably priced, not too horribly ugly, and to fit right covering all of my fat well enough.  That’s not too much to ask for, is it?  Well, apparently it wasn’t because I was able to find one that fit those criteria.  I paid for it and rushed home to get in the pool before it got too late, too dark, and too cold.  Well, I didn’t quite make it.  I got down to the pool, walked in, and stayed about 2 minutes.  The water was freezing.  Oh well… at least now I have a new swim suit for the next time I want to go down to the pool!