I am a Jellyfish. My head is hanging heavy like a rock, and my arms and legs are dangling. My eyes are staring at the bottom of the pool, as if there were a mirror directly below me.

As I approached the breakfast table in my health club's Grill, my heart started to beat faster. It wasn't from my 30-minute workout -- that had been finished one hour before and was followed by an additional 30 calming minutes in the women's dressing area.

Someone was breathing down my neck. I was seated at a kitchen stool, laptop opened on the counter, and my browser set to PAWSChicago.org.

I tried to ignore the toasty sensation -- was it pleasant or irritating-- until a voice forced me to turn around.

So, how's it going?" my daughter asked. Her voice rose with the question, as if anticipating my upbeat answer.

I didn't disappoint: "Great!" I said. "I love it -- the views, the building's staff, my mornings at the East Bank Club. Terrific!"