Going skiing

I’m going skiing. In the middle of the week. I feel almost dirty! Haven’t been able to sneak away mid-week, or even during the week at all, in a very long time. And on a Wednesday! Seems wrong somehow, but the people will have to get by without me. (Fridays, while popular for extending weekends, seem to be when all craziness occurs, and taking Friday off just means somebody else gets stuck with my messes, or that I spend all my time shouting into a cell phone or jamming my thumbs into my Blueberry, so it’s just not worth it.)

So, last Sunday, skied by myself. Tomorrow, skiing by myself. Saturday and Sunday, skiing with the girls. That’s what I call a good week.

Had I mentioned that I’m also finally learning to swim? Not learning it as quickly as I learned to ski, in fact, but getting it down. Getting the breathing timed right is just a problem for me. Plus, the scissor-kick . . . what is up with that?