Had a very good week. Am starting to feel cautiously optimistic that maybe "the situation" won't blow up in my face after all.

Plus I got a day off work, so what's not to like?

I've been spending a lot of time in the pool lately. I typically go over to my parents' house, where the pool is heated and stepping in is like wrapping myself in a silk blanket fresh from the dryer.

But sometimes I use my own pool, which is not heated and therefore feels like the icy wasteland that dwells in the hearts of evil men and bar examiners. It's so cold that it's impossible to simply step in gradually, because if you do you'll never make it, plus your prolonged and agonized shrieking will frighten the neighbors. The only option is to simply launch yourself in, get the shock over in one brutal swoop.

As much fun as it is to have friends over to swim – and I wish people would come over more often – swimming alone is a uniquely hedonistic experience. It's a bit like meditating, even more so than walking the dogs alone (where a certain amount of attention must be directed to the dogs and the traffic and the potential psycho killer). I think about everything while I'm out there, until eventually I think about nothing except the feel of the water around me.

Oh, and the sound of my little white dog yelping from the side of the pool. He thinks I'm drowning.