I never thought I could hate showering. Then I came to London.
I think I actually took better showers when I was a camp counselor and it was smelly well water that was getting me "clean." I mean, the low water pressure didn't exactly get all the soap out of my hair, but at least it wasn't singeing my skin like the water in the shower at 40 Hogarth.
The temperature of the water is either scalding or frigid. And although I thought I mastered the trick of switching back and forth to get a somewhat comfortable temp, I haven't.
Since the recent death of my flatmate Marvin, I don't even have a bathroom buddy anymore. Marvin had recently taken up residence behind the toilet, which not only limited my time in the bathroom, but also forced me to wear boots every time I stepped foot in the room (I don't want any furry bodies breezing past my ankles).
I may have to join a gym just for the shower. Nah. I'll just tough it out. I could never cheat on Lifetime like that.
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2 comments:
You'll have a much better shower at home, but please don't wait until then.
Cheat on lifetime? You only belong there for like a month a year . . .
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