Yesterday I had my first bath in years. It is not as bad as it sounds: it's not that I've been wallowing in unspeakable dirt all this time, but rather I've relied on a quick and bracing shower first thing in the morning, rather than a slow and luxuriant bath. Partly this was driven by some odd peculiarity of the plumbing, which has now fortunately been fixed, so that I can actually get enough hot water out of the boiler to fill the bath were I ever in the mood. And then it happened yesterday morning that the shower refused point blank to work, just at that delicate time of the day when you really want everything to go without a hitch or else you might as well collapse back into bed and try again tomorrow.
So I still did not manage a slow, luxuriant wallow: it ended up more as a brisk dip, as I find mornings to be quite rushed at the best of times, especially when you want to be out of the house before the traffic builds up. But it may be that, inspired by this minor yet still somehow significant achievement, I will one day progress to a more serious attempt at bathing, with appropriate background music and scented candles, and seek to banish the stresses and tensions of the working day. Which you never quite manage in the shower.
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