Mercury in Retrograde

It's not always bad when the old planet of communication decides to go backwards. Take this morning. I set off for aqua aerobics as usual on a Monday, unaware that it had been cancelled. Some problem with the chlorine arose, and so the staff rang around all the regulars to tell them not to come. For me they still had Jean's number, and as she didn't know my new one she suggested they call Ruth, who luckily was out. By the time I got there the chlorine problem had been sorted, and for forty five glorious minutes I had the pool all to myself, with my own private lifeguard. Up and down I swam, languidly, luxuriously, nobody splashing me, no one getting in my way. For a while I lay flat on my back, arms and legs outstretched, and just wafted weightlessly around the pool, absolutely relaxed. My namesake Denise, with nothing to do on her high chair but watch me, said she'd never seen anyone so blissed out in the pool before. I can now stop fretting about how to spend the lottery millions when I get them. An indoor pool, full size, a lifeguard, and somewhere to put them. That should take care of a tidy sum.