Saturday, August 6, 2011

Past Deadline: A Pool! Not!

I have a love-hate relationship with the beach.

I love the beach for the swimming. Floating and pretending to be a fish (but not pretending to be a floating fish because that is rarely good) is one of my most favourite things to do in the world. I feel comfortable and free in the water. It’s good exercise and I wish I could fit it into my life more.

Say! A great way to make daily swimming more convenient would be to have a pool in the backyard. Man, would I ever like a pool.

I’m telling you, in the summer I would move my home office to the deck. Part of that rationale is also because in my current teeny, tiny Les-Nessman-style office I have to sit a mere two feet from a window air conditioner. My left side is frozen within 10 minutes, which makes typing difficult, to say the least.

If I had a pool, not only would it bring new meaning to the term “office pool,” but I would create my own personal union of one that would negotiate a contract with myself (as management) that stipulates the employee must have multiple swim breaks during the day. That’s right. I would sit beside the pool and talk to myself about how many swimming breaks I should take. (This is what can happen sometimes when you are self-employed.)

Also, I would probably have to hire staff (in addition to Mr. George BlackBerry, Executive Assistant). I'm thinking I would need a margarita-serving pool boy, yes?


Okay, well let's talk about the beach some more, then. I also love the beach because my kids love it. We enjoy exploring the shorelines for critters and they are fish like I am. Their dad claims he used to be a fish. He also was, I’m told, a lifeguard while he was a student, but I am sceptical because the whole time I have known him he has rarely even gotten his toes wet. Perhaps he is still waterlogged from those days. So much for Dad teaching the little fish to swim.

You know, I think those little fish would also love a pool. I also think it would save a certain Mama’s sanity in the summer while she is trying to work with kids home, and it could form part of the negotiations in terms of health benefits. The pool boy could be tasked with lifeguarding during the times when I am not on deck.

It’s obviously a win-win.


Okay okay. Back to talking about the beach.

Here’s what I don’t love about the beach: the Wearing of the Bathing Suit in Public. I have had bathing suit issues for a good chunk of my life. At first it was because I was so tall and lean that bathing suits never fit right. They literally hung off of me in order to accommodate my length, and I looked like a dork.

Oh, those days are so over now it makes me want to cry a little.

Eventually I filled out my frame decently, but this was short lived. I got a desk job and my derriere felt compelled to become a king-size pillow to keep me comfortable whilst I sat.

Thanks, but no thanks.

Then I had babies. Then my metabolism slowed down and my willpower left town. ’Nuff said. Now I am twice the woman I used to be, which would be fine if I were referring to self-esteem or philanthropic tendencies or some other spiritual or humanitarian effort, but all it means is that at the beach I displace twice as much water as before.

That’s just one more reason why a pool would be so awesome. I could displace water in the privacy of my backyard. More importantly, I could do laps and get toned. My pool boy, in addition to his lifeguarding duties, could also be a personal trainer. Soon I would be fit and fine and confident for beach appearances if necessary.

It is a perfect plan.

What? No?

Oh, right. The backyard is too small for a pool.

Could I still get the margarita-serving pool boy?


Sigh. Fine. See y’all at the beach. Just don’t look at me, okay?

Published in The Perth Courier, July 21/11

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