The Bath, Part 2
I am truly wondering when a simple act like bathing became a dreaded EVENT, something I have to actually plan for and, even, sometimes make excuses for. (“No, I’m sorry I cannot accept your offer of a date tonight; I need to wash my hair.”)
A heat-challenged bathroom. Spongy flooring. Mal-functioning door (I locked myself out, while the heat and the water were already running, and ultimately requiring a freaking crowbar -- seriously!). Forty minutes later…dull razors, neglected too-long body hair, everywhere. (Who cares?!) Plus my head-hair, now stripped of a month’s worth of hair product, and which hair will surely not cooperate for another 60 days because that’s what it (and I) am used to. Tomorrow and Monday and the next week: bad hair days ahead.
And I forgot to lather on my in-shower lotion, which is so much more effective (and easier) than my after-shower lotion. Flaky-skin days ahead of me, when I put on my (for-now necessary) control-top pantyhose that will be worn underneath my new $90.00 wardrobe in which I indulged today because nothing fits anymore and I’m sick of my wardrobe anyway. And I really needed an indulgence.
And, maybe I’m going on another date.
Before I leave.