That’s what Tech Boy calls me.
The spa at Blue Lagoon can really only nominally be called “swimming,” but this is pretty much what our outdoor pool looks like at 5:30 a.m. – clouds of steam and blurry shapes…
Fish. Because, once I get in, it’s hard to get me out.
Weightless. Gliding. On earth, it is the closest we get to flying, like birds. Swimming.
And for this, I give thanks.