I no longer care that I don’t look like Elle MacPherson in a bathing suit! I have fifty-mission legs all covered with scars and varicosities, and the little pot belly that God gives women who survive menopause by more than fifteen years, and who the hell cares?

I’m just grateful that the Y pool is open again, and the kind of bathing suit that doesn’t rot on contact with the chemicals is actually comfortable and well made.