Showering

I've always struggled with taking short showers. Almost without exception, whilst lathering or rinsing my hair, I find myself daydreaming or spacing out or something. I'd say there's something in the water, but it happens everywhere I go, so I have no claim. Perhaps it's just the lull of routine, combined with the comfort of hot water that just puts me in a different place, pushes me out of the normal stream of consciousness.

Well, today I found the cure. I guarantee that nothing shortens shower time like realizing that you're quickly running out of hot water. This happened to me very (very very) recently, as I got in the shower and realized that, with eight people in the house, showering after all of them was not going to be pleasant. Although there was some warm water, I turned the dial far past the usual level that results in scalding temperatures, and found my shower getting not warmer, but progressively cooler. Panic immediately set in.

I have a pretty good system down. I shampoo twice, and condition once. After lathering up the first time, I give the shampoo a little time to sit on my hair while I shave my armpits. During the second shampooing's sit, I get on my loofa action. Finally, I condition, and while the conditioner is sitting, I shave my legs. Today, however, I was down to one shampoo, not letting the conditioner sit, shaving my armpits, and running a cursory handful of soap over my body, hoping that the water wouldn't suddenly turn ice cold while I was in there. I only barely made it.


In other news ... I think I'm going to try to write a novel this summer. Just for fun, of course. I'm not going to try to produce anything publishable, but I would like to produce something novel-length. I'm shooting for something between 50-60 thousand words. If nothing else, we can just call it practice for National Novel Writing Month in November when I actually will have a real deadline and real word count requirement. Gasp. I'm kind of excited about it. In a totally ''it's forbidden'' sort of way. Even though it's not forbidden. It's just so ... lame? Idk. The culture of NaNoWriMo participants (who call themselves "WriMos," a term which sounds strangely like rhinos) is not one that I'd normally choose to embrace. In fact, embrace is not exactly what I plan on doing. I'm hoping to be among the "WriMos," but not OF the "WriMos." Because writers are weird until they get published. That's just the way it is. Once you're getting money, you're a certified genius. Until then, you're a book worm and a hermit with a pen. Whatever. I scoff and scorn and gaze adoringly all at once. I guess I just have to accept it. I want to be a writer, and gosh dangit I'm going to be one. <-- Just saying that last sentence freaks me out. It's terrifying and thrilling, all at once.

Here's to trying not to fail at life while still pursuing your passions, and accepting the fact that you've chosen a profession that will inevitably mock your attempts at trying to generate income. Hooray. :P