Prior to their tears, I had explained that during a conversation about my life in my 30's, I interrupted that chat with this epiphany: "You know, I just realized something, my 30-year-old self would be thrilled to see how her 80-year-old self turned out." My eyes brightened; I sat upright. I felt triumphant, as if my discovery had been gold instead of a vintage clue.

Dog Park is nearly empty at this hour. Only one toy-sized, caramel-colored pup prances towards a thrown ball. When he spots a thin black hound also on its way to the target, the little one, like a marathoner nearing the tape, speeds up.

I’m not certain why I shed my internal rigid timetable and leapt at a lengthy ride along with five strangers and no opportunity for bathroom breaks to catch a flight boarding in less than three hours, but now I pin it on the place of departure.

Starting today, I'm ditching my daily doses of Vitamin E, and Fish Oil, as well as any aspirin, Advil, or Aleve. This scheme will give me a full week to forestall any possible bleeding that might be encouraged by my upcoming procedure. Gratefully, I'm not scheduled for surgery. Instead, I'm going in for a tattoo touch-up, and hopefully a brand new one.

One lane was open in the pool. In the other three, I recognized two of the regulars. But the third lane, which was next to the one I would be slipping into, held someone new.He looked familiar: stocky, muscled biceps, black hair slicked back like a '40s film idol. When I entered my lane, and did my underwater dips, I could see the legs of my neighbor. They were thin compared to his bulk and were marked in the thigh, as if needles had been frequently inserted.