They've now painted my floor pink. Like a veal chop. Or human flesh. Between that and the Cadbury's Chocolate colour of the ground floor, I think about food from the moment I get to work, which isn't good for a fat bastard such as myself.
I was effortlessly put down in the pool today. I managed my 60 lengths in a decent enough time, and apologised to the lady with whom I shared the lane for drifting over. As we chatted, she mentioned that she'd 'only' done 160 lengths but was getting bored. I resisted the temptation to hold her head under the water, largely because she could probably hold her breath for longer than it would take me to weaken.