Well, my sister and decided to take the plunge. Literally. We took my Mom to a swimming class to help her build up some extra strength.

Little did I know when I said yes that it would involve wearing a bathing suit with no t-shirt.

I am a die-hard "t-shirt over the suit" kind of lady. Even on cruise ships and other places where it's customary to let it all hang out. I do not let it all hang out. I never let it all hang out. I guess I'm a little uptight.

Maybe, just a bit.

Anyway, we went yesterday, and in the car on the way there I had the awful realization that this swimming pool doesn't let people wear t-shirts because the fibers clog up the filters in their pool. Mind you, I had already spent hours tucking as much of me as is humanly possible into my delightfully faded old suit, and inspecting my legs for mysterious areas where the razor just decided to do nothing (it happens all of the time--I'm not good at hair removal), and trying to imagine how Christopher Walken-ly my hair was going to get in the pool.

This is my process. I just have to do trial runs of everything.

Anyway, we got there, and I took off the t-shirt. I wish I could say it was easy, but it wasn't, and I wish I could say next week isn't going to make me die a little inside, but it will. However, I will say that I don't think I caught athlete's foot from the showers, and  although I did see a lot of be-swimsuited older ladies, I didn't actually see enough nakedness to have nightmares, so that's positive.

Also, since my face wasn't in the water, I didn't worry too much the whole time about the amount of pee in which I was swimming.

There is no escape from it. It's my brain.

And I have the bonus of knowing that I walked around with just a swimsuit on. It looked terrible and felt terrible, but I did it anyway. And I get to do it again next week.

Wait, is that a positive? I'm not sure.