Adrenaline Junkie

The National Aquatic Centre opened up near me a few months back. It’s a massive swimming complex with slides and whirlpools and all kindsa shit. I had put off visiting it for a while – because I hate taking off my glasses and wandering around in pools – but Dad had gone a few times and he said it was great. So I decided to take the plunge (sorry about that). It was brilliant. We started with the slides. First one was a big dark slide that twirled you around and shot you out the end like a bullet. After my first go I noticed a curious alteration in my mood.

Fingers twitch
Nostrils flare
Shivers
Pupils dilate
Hair stands on end
Goofy smile dawns.

That was fantastic! I felt like a man locked away in the cellar who had just clawed through the rotten timber walls and caught a glimpse of the sun. I had to go again. I was an adrenaline junkie - on cold turkey for months - but now the fix was in. I was a recovering alcoholic who had just fallen off the wagon. I hadn’t been to an amusement park in ages and I was making up for it. I climbed the two flights of stairs to the slides until my chest heaved and my legs sagged and I saw white dots. Then I went again.

Eventually I had to give in to the complaints of my legs and stomach, but I’ll be back.

Oh yes.

My Holidays (note caps) went into a death roll after Naomi’s party, but things are starting to look good again.