Shower Time

It's been unusually cold for the past week or so, which is pretty great in my opinion. Cold weather just feels nicer, you know? Sure, every once in a while, when the wind picks up and hits you hard, you pine for the sauna-like temperatures of years past, but overall, it's been rather cool (sorry).

The only bad thing about cold weather is the warm shower part.

Now, don't get me wrong. The actual warm shower is the best. Over the years I've figured out that personally, I like the feeling of being warm in cold weather more than being cold in warm weather. Blankets to the chin, hot chocolate, layers and coats are all great examples of this, and the scalding hot showers are probably the best example of all.

However.

There comes a time in every warm-shower-when-it's-freezing-everywhere when you have to turn the water off and step out (usually 45 minutes after you first stepped in). Ideally, in a perfect world, the heat generated from your shower would permeate the entire bathroom, and generate nice, temperamental conditions in which to dry yourself off in your cozy towel. The reality, though, is much more frightening.

The cold does not leave the bathroom when you step in for your shower. No, the cold is cunning, like a cheetah. It sees you as a helpless gazelle, unaware and oblivious as you step in for your last moments of comfort. And when you step out, the cold pounces and all hell breaks loose.

There is a split-second, when you have just turned off your scalding hot shower, when everything is okay, and then your eyes get wider and you mumble a barely audible "Oh shi-" and the cold hits you full-force, with everything it has. And it is so... fucking... c-c-cold...

Your human instinct kicks in and you scramble to find your towel, your best friend. But it's not where you normally leave it! "Drats!", you curse yourself, for in your haste to stand under the hot shower water, you forgot to bring in your towel. At this point, the cold is ravaging you. You are dripping wet, naked, and worst of all, completely defenseless. Your body shivers uncontrollably as the cold has its way with you.

No time to lose.

You leap out of the shower like a great warrior, unafraid of the... HOLY SHIT IT'S COLD. The tile flooring is not helping. "Who invented tile?", you wonder, "and why did they make it so cold?" You see the door, your final destination. The three or so tiny steps it takes to reach it feel like an eternity. You dare not look down, of course; the cold has done things to your body that can not be unseen.

You scramble out of the door and lunge into your room, the cold still right behind you. "There it is!" you think to yourself, noticing your fuzzy blue towel laid out perfectly, forgotten initially but now the most important thing in your life. You reach for it, hug it (rather, it hugs you), and you furiously dry yourself off as best you can, defeating the cold, at least for now.

So yes, while the 45 minutes of pure heaven under the hot showers are amazing, the immediate aftermath is almost not worth it. Almost.

Anyways, school starts up again in less than a week. 'Till then, I'll continue sleeping in 'till 3 in the afternoon, looking like a hazy drug addict coming out of a coma:



Well goddamn, I look awful.