(no subject)
I'm home, and it is not miraculous or amazing, but it is nice.
It's a bit rich saying this now, at the ass end, as it were, of the experience, but once I settled in, I actually rather enjoyed my time in rehab, mainly due to the other patients (what is weird about this is that they were all at least thirty years older than me) and good books, but more of that later. I also discovered the satisfactions of the treadmill.
This morning I had a bath, in this time of drought a sinful and consequently rare activity. However, it was quite relaxing even though I was disappointed to discover that since my last immersion the bath has not grown nor have I shrunk, necessitating bizarre contortions. The best thing, though, about a bath is that one is free, once it is full (though not too full) to sit in peace and contemplate one's stomach hairs without feeling guilty about wasting water. In a shower, one watches the precious liquid draining constantly away and every extra second snatched under the hot jet is another bit wasted. One is constantly hurrying and under pressure. In a bath, however, once the water is in there it would be wasteful to drain it out without getting some pleasure out of it, so the guilt is postponed until the plug is removed.
Eventually I decided I'd had enough, though this was prompted more by the cooling of the water and my skin wrinkling than any desire to face the upcoming day in a positive or proactive way. The removal of the plug allowed me to indulge in some long-neglected childish pastimes, which distracted me from my guilt at letting so much water disappear, such as allowing various parts of my anatomy to be sucked into the plughole, going on whirlpool patrol and getting very excited when one appeared.
This was followed by the risky and difficult operation of getting out of the bath. From this ordeal I emerged proudly unscathed. I have no plans to be visiting the emergency departments of any hospital again for some time.
I wish people would use the pronoun 'one' more often. Personally, I love it, but because so few other people use it it seems terribly pretentious to use it. As did that entire last sentence, incidentally. But seriously, it is more elegant, practical and most importantly, grammatically correct than 'you'.
I didn't mean to spend so long writing about having a bath. Oh well, no matter, I shall now sally forth and do something meaningful with my life.
It's a bit rich saying this now, at the ass end, as it were, of the experience, but once I settled in, I actually rather enjoyed my time in rehab, mainly due to the other patients (what is weird about this is that they were all at least thirty years older than me) and good books, but more of that later. I also discovered the satisfactions of the treadmill.
This morning I had a bath, in this time of drought a sinful and consequently rare activity. However, it was quite relaxing even though I was disappointed to discover that since my last immersion the bath has not grown nor have I shrunk, necessitating bizarre contortions. The best thing, though, about a bath is that one is free, once it is full (though not too full) to sit in peace and contemplate one's stomach hairs without feeling guilty about wasting water. In a shower, one watches the precious liquid draining constantly away and every extra second snatched under the hot jet is another bit wasted. One is constantly hurrying and under pressure. In a bath, however, once the water is in there it would be wasteful to drain it out without getting some pleasure out of it, so the guilt is postponed until the plug is removed.
Eventually I decided I'd had enough, though this was prompted more by the cooling of the water and my skin wrinkling than any desire to face the upcoming day in a positive or proactive way. The removal of the plug allowed me to indulge in some long-neglected childish pastimes, which distracted me from my guilt at letting so much water disappear, such as allowing various parts of my anatomy to be sucked into the plughole, going on whirlpool patrol and getting very excited when one appeared.
This was followed by the risky and difficult operation of getting out of the bath. From this ordeal I emerged proudly unscathed. I have no plans to be visiting the emergency departments of any hospital again for some time.
I wish people would use the pronoun 'one' more often. Personally, I love it, but because so few other people use it it seems terribly pretentious to use it. As did that entire last sentence, incidentally. But seriously, it is more elegant, practical and most importantly, grammatically correct than 'you'.
I didn't mean to spend so long writing about having a bath. Oh well, no matter, I shall now sally forth and do something meaningful with my life.