Swimming

And just like that Christmas and New Years passed.  It was another year.  365 days had gone by.  Where did the time go?  Sometimes she wondered the same about fat.  Just where did it go when it finally decided to leave.  I mean one day you could fit into a pair of size 6 jeans and the other days you couldn’t pull up the 10’s.  SO just where does the muffin top go?

Something to ponder.  Makes you stop and think.

So it was a new year.  Full of hope and resolution.  Promises to stop smoking.  Start running.  New resolves to give up sugar, give up gluten, give up liquor.  January was always a serious month.  Gym memberships were way up.  Lululemon sales soared.  And then like always, February hits.  People start feeing the cold in their bones.  Trips to the gym fall by the waistside.  Waistlines start to swell.  Lululemon purchases feel excessive.  Hot cocoa feels rights.  So do mashed potatoes and brisket.  So the time drones on.  Depression is everywhere.  Sadness.  Despair.  Desperation.  People  look forward to April.  Those people who weren’t looking to shoot themselves.  Why can’t anyone seem to remember that we always have snow in April.  April Fools, you FOOLS.  We always have snow in April.  But then comes May.  A time to start again, since we know you failed back in January and Febraury.  A time to bust out the spring collection.  Contemplate the white pants.  The Brazilian wax.  The high-heeled TOMS shoes.  Shameless plug, buy another pair of TOMS shoes and support a kid without shoes. It’s the best way to assuage the guilt.  Charity for the rich.  Helps every single time.

So May goes swimmingly.  And then in June there’s swimming.  She did get uber lucky in this respect.  Her neighbor 3 doors down (ON THE SAME SIDE of the street!!) lived in the most luxurious home on the block.  Brand new and sparkly, complete with perfectly temperate backyard pool.  White lounges with grey accents, it was a summer to be spent in heaven.  As so it went.  For the first 4 weeks of the summer.  PEOPLE MAGAZINE, HOUSE & HOME, Architechtural Digest.  They read magazines, they ate guacamole.  Ladies were even brought in to paint their nails.  That was a short lived highlight.  She  painted their feet and chatted for hours.  Ever hear of a manicure that takes over 2 hours?  Not even the shellac type.  Her name was Anika and she drove them mental.  They let her stay, because after all, it was THEIR summer.  The summer of 2012.  She worked cheap and her chatter was numbing.  Numb was what they wanted.  Blurred out the world.  And that was what they needed.  They formed a club.   Their own special club.  So far there were only two members.  Sadly, no one else fit the requirments.  You had to live on their side of the street for starters.  Your name HAD to begin with an “L”.  You had to be lovely.  Quite and utterly lovely.  You had to be invited.  We planned to invite the others.  We just didn’t ever feel like getting up.  After all, our nails were always wet.  

And so they swam.  And again it was a super summer.  Then July hit and quickly good went to awful.  Totally and horrifically awful.