"I love your wrinkles," she said; the expression on her face confirming sincerity.

"I do, too," I said. At first, I was taken aback by her declaration. After all, it wasn't my haircut she was complimenting, or my outfit, but a patchwork of lines on my face that are more often reviled than admired.

I used a green and white Whole Foods shopping bag to pack essentials: one bottle of wine, one package of Skinny Pop, one container of ice, one can of Le Croix, and four paper cups for drinks and snacks.

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.