Steamy Whopper (She's)

My opening statements below (that whole post explaining whatever it is I explain) are quite Solveig, I guess. Didn't realize I had such a drive for explanations; it's like I believe it's needed, I suppose. In Norwegian the term "forklaringsbehov" would according to my own view of this tendency to explain not be suitable (but it is a nice word). I don't explain myself all that often. I just explain. Like now--yet another explanation.

I went swimming today again! First I was taught smart things to do with dumbbells and such, and I liked it. It was a complimentary hang-out with Mr. Personal Trainer Jason, and it was nice. He asked me what my main goals were, so I said condition. Anything else? "Yes, coming here." I'm not sure that was an option. When I joined the gym a week ago, this other guy asked me the same question, filling out my profile on his computer. I said that I'd like to improve my condition, but that sure wasn't an option (that's just Norwenglish), so I chose strength as my main focus. Did I totally forget that I'm going to walk the beaches of Florida in 5 weeks? And I call myself a woman?

At this gym they have a steam room, and I like being in there for a while, giving my airways a pat on the back of the nose for acting somewhat normal again. I lay down and just breathed and relaxed. I forgot for a moment that I'm in the City; in the Melting Pot; in this busy little place on earth where Native Americans once ruled, and people with money now rule. Celebrities are just maggots in the Big Apple, like the rest of us. I was lying there having my own little steam party; I just was. I forgot to think that I should relax; I just had.