Bringing It To Water
Anyone who, like me, learned how to swim as an adult would probably agree with me on the profundity of the whole experience. Or fine, anyone who, like me, is dramatic. I only learned how to swim about 3 or 4 years ago. My teachers - Helmy, Sharifa and Summer - had to engage me in long, dragged-out, profound discussions before I could be convinced to venture into that dark abyss also known as The Deep End of The Pool. It wasn't even that deep, if I'm honest. But my fear was. I could think of a few people to blame for this fear of water that I had forever nursed, foremost being my incompetent high school Physics teacher, who couldn't take 5 minutes to explain such important things as HOW THE HELL IS IT POSSIBLE FOR A HUMAN BEING TO TREAD WATER? (I'm not being fair to her, though, because after all, thanks to her classes, I was well-armed in college to understand the speed and velocity of projectile vomit after a night of heavy drinking, as well as how to win money ...