My half brother called to ask about a charge on his phone bill and stayed on after I explained it, telling me about a girl in his class. I was pleased he called me, which I would have remained if Mom hadn't texted later saying how nice it was that I helped him. He is twenty, I'm thirty-two, we can have a conversation without parental recognition. Now it sounds like the whole thing was an arranged opportunity for me to be useful. Probably wasn't. Still annoying. He sent me another message about the girl, so apparently I haven't been transferred out of that department yet.

The roommate convinced me to go in the apartment pool, which apparently requires an announcement because I've lived here long enough without using it. The water was warmer than I expected, not refreshing exactly, but floating with my ears half underwater shut out the traffic pretty well. I did two lengths and discovered swimming uses something other than walking from the Civic to the building. Arms got heavy fast. Sat on the steps after that and refused to provide a lap count when asked. My back felt decent when I got out, though the concrete was hot enough to turn the walk to my sandals into a public performance.

I'm rewriting one paragraph of the fantasy league rules because two people managed to interpret the same deadline differently, and now every clearer sentence seems to create a different loophole. The roommate says nobody reads nine pages. Fine, then why argue with the commissioner about what they say? I could shorten it to a date and a time, but somebody will claim they thought it meant their time zone. We're all in the same one except one guy, who was actually on time. I know exactly what needs to happen; apparently explaining it requires more words than running the entire waiver process.