Hot & Sticky

I might even be glad to be going to work. It is, after all, payday, but I did say might. I'll know for sure later.

August 17--Nothing has changed--That's a lie, Debra thought, a lot has changed. I feel very different tonight than I felt this morning. She smiled, a very self-satisfied smile, as if she had pulled off a trick or gotten her way by subterfuge, when in actuality she'd only given in to something she'd been battling against for years. See, eighteen years ago she let her husband talk her into learning to scuba dive. It was hard for her and took all her courage. She had always shied away from physical things and she wasn't a very good swimmer. Debra's husband promised to help her and so she dredged up what felt like the last shred of bravery in her arsenal and she learned to dive. They dived in the Great Lakes, the Atlantic Ocean, the Caribbean Sea, and the Pacific Ocean. It was great, exciting and adventurous. Debra felt proud for learning to dive and for facing down so many fears. Many of her dive buddies said she'd be more comfortable in a drysuit. She loved her wetsuit; it was so comfy and it felt like it disappeared when she dived in it. Not so for the drysuit. It was expensive, costing as much as four wetsuits, and it choked her and squeezed her and never really kept her warm, only dry. But she'd paid so much for it and everyone else loved theirs, she thought she must be doing something wrong. Over five years, she gradually stopped diving in the cold fresh water near her home, she missed it and camaraderie of other divers. Finally this year she bought a new wetsuit and today she dived in it. It was fabulous, comfy and warm. Everything had changed and nothing had changed--all in one forty-two minute dive. Debra fell asleep easily that night with a smile on her face.

Can you tell I love my new wetsuit?
--Barbara