soporific ruminations: up through the shower
I realize now, that i should have written this while in the shower when it was, so to speak, fresh. But alas, it is hours after my shower this morning that I have finally found the time (I so often lose it), to sit down at a computer, and blog about the mundanity that was my morning.
Last night before retiring for the day, I had set my alarm so that I would catch a bit more sleep this morning. However, as is the case with time, I can never seem to find the sleep when I want it. So, a few hours before my alarm went off, I woke up and made my way into the living room where I flipped on the television to watch sports center and find out why the BCS works the way it does. I hope Ohio state kicks the pants off of LSU. At the same time I logged onto the internets for the first time today and found that the internets were doing nothing out of the ordinary and that business seemed to be business as usual, yet again. All of a sudden, I realized that I was a bit peckish. Normally, I would tell my stomach to shut up, and let the hunger pass for a few hours, but this morning I remembered that I still had some of the delicious quiche I had made for Sunday morning's brunch, wrapped up in tin foil in the refrigerator. Oh joy! I turned on the oven, and backed a piece of quiche and a vegan sausage on 350 degrees for 10 minutes. I then went back to watch more sports center.
Ah, quiche! As I look out the window of the office I appropriated last year, I see the education building across the street, and the beautiful, though I have no earthly idea what type they are, because it has a nice ring to it I shall call them sycamore trees, in the foreground. the sun shines down out of the Carolina blue sky (god is a tarheel, don't you know), students walk by, and every now and again, a car makes its way down Cameron, just often enough to remind me that some people, but by no menas all people, have somewhere to be. I look at this beautiful setting, and I think of the quiche. Don't ask me why, I just do.
As the quich ebegan the slow process of digestion, my roommate woke up, got his morning glass of orange juice (than you Jenn), and asked if it was alright if he take a shower. I told him that it was more than alright, as he looked a mess, and smelled worse. He laughed at my little jest, and made his way into the washroom. I picked up my plate and headed into the kitchen where the mess from yesterday's brunch still required cleaning. It looked as though quiche and saladhad exploded over the sink and I thought that it was quite a pitty that so much of such a tasty quiche was left, stuck in bits and pieces, hardened by a day of stagnance, scattered across a mess of dishes and cutlery. I turned teh water on, not too hot, ever conscious of my roommate in the midst of his morning cleaning. I scrubbed and washed and washed and scrubbed until the dishes were almost all done. I never really finish any task completely. I will get almost done, but I try not to go much further than that. Don't ask me why, that's just the way I waltz (thank you Andy).
By the time I finished the dishes, Cameron had gotten out of the shower. I decided that I would wait a little bit before taking my own shower in order to give the water heater a bit of a well deserved rest. I returned to the couch and to sports center. I also logged back onto the internets in an effort to see if anything had changed yet, but alas, it was still the same. There will be a time, I believe, when the internets will provide me with the answers that I yearn for. There will be a time when the internets will know what I need and as soon as I log on, the internets will give me what my heart desires. But as of this morning, the internets were still silent. I can wait. I am a patient man. I returned to sports center.
Eventually, as Cameron was putting his shoes on, I decided to take a shower. I went to my room to find something to wear. I was mainly concerned with pants. Though I have had the time, I have not lately had the inclination to do my laundry, so I stared at the heap of not so fresh clothes scattered throughout my room. I searched in my closet and found two options. First, there were my overalls, a pari that has holes that are most likely older than I am. Secondly, there was my orange dickies. I decided to save the dickies for tomorrow, when I have to look somewhat presentable for the last day of classes. To complement the overalls, I chose a purple shirt that my mom had designed when I was in high school. I twas for our class production of A Midsummer Nights Dream and has a couple of fairies on it. My mom always did love fairies. Finally, the overalls demanded a pair of underwear. Normally I go without, but there are some articles of clothing that may at times unexpectedly become revealing, and my overalls happen to be one of those articles. I chose a pait of my high school gym shorts. I had the option of another pair of black shorts, but I chose the grey gym shorts instead. don't ask me why, for I wouldn't be able to tell you. It was just the choice I made.
Finally, it was time for my shower. I told Cameron that I was going to cleanse myself and he wished me luck. I told him that it would be difficult, as the real dirt was on the inside. He laughed at my little jest. I enetered the washroom. I placed the outfit I would wear shortly next to the sink, turned the water on, and shed my nightclothes. I stepped into the warm spray and immediately noticed taht my hair was obscenely dry. I would have to condition it today. This would indeed be a fine shower. I began with the shampoo. I squeezed a quarter sized dab into my right hand and then began to mix it into my left hand. when both hands had a somewaht equal amount of shampoo (you can never get a truly equal mount, but I like to think that I got close), I began to lather the shampoo into my hair. I worked it into the wet yet dry strands slowly and evenly, beginning with a gentle gloss on the top of my hair, then moving towards a harder but still pleasant, massage into my scalp. Once I had worked up a slightly more than sufficient lather. I placed my head under the faucet and allowed the warm stream of water to gently wash away the grime attached to my hair. I was feeling cleaner and more relaxed by the moment. Now it was time to condition my hair. I pumped a quarter sized amount of conditioner into the palm of my left hand and mixed it gently between my right hand. I then began to massage the conditioner into my hair, slowly working it down into the scalp. I turned towards the faucet and washed the excess off of my hands as I felt my hair growing more and mroe mooist by the moment.
As I waited while the conditioner worked its magic, I reached for a bar of Burts Bees peppermint exfoliating soap. I began to work the soap up and down my body and as the aroma of pepperming filled the air and as the exfoliating beads firmly rubbed away flakes of dead skin, and as the water beat down, and as the conditioner worked its magic, I entered into a state of sensory bliss. Each of my senses became acutely aware of everything that was happening, from the aromas in the air, to the taste of the water, to the drumming sound of the water as it hit the plastic tub. It was a perfect moment. As I rinsed teh soap from my body, I decided that I would soap myself again. Not to continue the experience, but because I had just purchased a bottle of Dr. Brommers soap and was anxious to use it.
I grabbed a cloth, rinsed it under the water, and poured a healthy amount of the new soap on. I worked the soap into a lather by rubbing the cloth back and forth in my hands, and then began to apply it to my body. The soap itself smelled of lavender and pachouli and the sensation of the cloth was like the exfoliating beeds in the other soap, but more consistent. There's something to be said about not quite knowing when the exfoliation will occur, but knowing that it will occur. There is also something to be said about knowing that the floo of the tub will be littered by dead skin. there are always multiple paths to take and multiple reasons for taking those paths. some days you get to take more than one path. I gave myself the time to take those two paths in the shower and emerged from the water cleaner, and more fulfilled because of it.
As I began to rinse off Dr. Brommers soap, the water began to turn chilly. It closed up more pores, and pulled me up from the brink of inactivity. I washed the rest of the soap off, but not too quickly, rinsed the conditioner off my hair, feeling the smoothness of the soap washing away and the traces that it had left on my hair, turned off the faucet, and opened up the shower curtain. I pulled my towel off of the rack and began drying myself, taking care to dry off the base of my feet before I stepped on the ground, so as not to slip.
Last night before retiring for the day, I had set my alarm so that I would catch a bit more sleep this morning. However, as is the case with time, I can never seem to find the sleep when I want it. So, a few hours before my alarm went off, I woke up and made my way into the living room where I flipped on the television to watch sports center and find out why the BCS works the way it does. I hope Ohio state kicks the pants off of LSU. At the same time I logged onto the internets for the first time today and found that the internets were doing nothing out of the ordinary and that business seemed to be business as usual, yet again. All of a sudden, I realized that I was a bit peckish. Normally, I would tell my stomach to shut up, and let the hunger pass for a few hours, but this morning I remembered that I still had some of the delicious quiche I had made for Sunday morning's brunch, wrapped up in tin foil in the refrigerator. Oh joy! I turned on the oven, and backed a piece of quiche and a vegan sausage on 350 degrees for 10 minutes. I then went back to watch more sports center.
Ah, quiche! As I look out the window of the office I appropriated last year, I see the education building across the street, and the beautiful, though I have no earthly idea what type they are, because it has a nice ring to it I shall call them sycamore trees, in the foreground. the sun shines down out of the Carolina blue sky (god is a tarheel, don't you know), students walk by, and every now and again, a car makes its way down Cameron, just often enough to remind me that some people, but by no menas all people, have somewhere to be. I look at this beautiful setting, and I think of the quiche. Don't ask me why, I just do.
As the quich ebegan the slow process of digestion, my roommate woke up, got his morning glass of orange juice (than you Jenn), and asked if it was alright if he take a shower. I told him that it was more than alright, as he looked a mess, and smelled worse. He laughed at my little jest, and made his way into the washroom. I picked up my plate and headed into the kitchen where the mess from yesterday's brunch still required cleaning. It looked as though quiche and saladhad exploded over the sink and I thought that it was quite a pitty that so much of such a tasty quiche was left, stuck in bits and pieces, hardened by a day of stagnance, scattered across a mess of dishes and cutlery. I turned teh water on, not too hot, ever conscious of my roommate in the midst of his morning cleaning. I scrubbed and washed and washed and scrubbed until the dishes were almost all done. I never really finish any task completely. I will get almost done, but I try not to go much further than that. Don't ask me why, that's just the way I waltz (thank you Andy).
By the time I finished the dishes, Cameron had gotten out of the shower. I decided that I would wait a little bit before taking my own shower in order to give the water heater a bit of a well deserved rest. I returned to the couch and to sports center. I also logged back onto the internets in an effort to see if anything had changed yet, but alas, it was still the same. There will be a time, I believe, when the internets will provide me with the answers that I yearn for. There will be a time when the internets will know what I need and as soon as I log on, the internets will give me what my heart desires. But as of this morning, the internets were still silent. I can wait. I am a patient man. I returned to sports center.
Eventually, as Cameron was putting his shoes on, I decided to take a shower. I went to my room to find something to wear. I was mainly concerned with pants. Though I have had the time, I have not lately had the inclination to do my laundry, so I stared at the heap of not so fresh clothes scattered throughout my room. I searched in my closet and found two options. First, there were my overalls, a pari that has holes that are most likely older than I am. Secondly, there was my orange dickies. I decided to save the dickies for tomorrow, when I have to look somewhat presentable for the last day of classes. To complement the overalls, I chose a purple shirt that my mom had designed when I was in high school. I twas for our class production of A Midsummer Nights Dream and has a couple of fairies on it. My mom always did love fairies. Finally, the overalls demanded a pair of underwear. Normally I go without, but there are some articles of clothing that may at times unexpectedly become revealing, and my overalls happen to be one of those articles. I chose a pait of my high school gym shorts. I had the option of another pair of black shorts, but I chose the grey gym shorts instead. don't ask me why, for I wouldn't be able to tell you. It was just the choice I made.
Finally, it was time for my shower. I told Cameron that I was going to cleanse myself and he wished me luck. I told him that it would be difficult, as the real dirt was on the inside. He laughed at my little jest. I enetered the washroom. I placed the outfit I would wear shortly next to the sink, turned the water on, and shed my nightclothes. I stepped into the warm spray and immediately noticed taht my hair was obscenely dry. I would have to condition it today. This would indeed be a fine shower. I began with the shampoo. I squeezed a quarter sized dab into my right hand and then began to mix it into my left hand. when both hands had a somewaht equal amount of shampoo (you can never get a truly equal mount, but I like to think that I got close), I began to lather the shampoo into my hair. I worked it into the wet yet dry strands slowly and evenly, beginning with a gentle gloss on the top of my hair, then moving towards a harder but still pleasant, massage into my scalp. Once I had worked up a slightly more than sufficient lather. I placed my head under the faucet and allowed the warm stream of water to gently wash away the grime attached to my hair. I was feeling cleaner and more relaxed by the moment. Now it was time to condition my hair. I pumped a quarter sized amount of conditioner into the palm of my left hand and mixed it gently between my right hand. I then began to massage the conditioner into my hair, slowly working it down into the scalp. I turned towards the faucet and washed the excess off of my hands as I felt my hair growing more and mroe mooist by the moment.
As I waited while the conditioner worked its magic, I reached for a bar of Burts Bees peppermint exfoliating soap. I began to work the soap up and down my body and as the aroma of pepperming filled the air and as the exfoliating beads firmly rubbed away flakes of dead skin, and as the water beat down, and as the conditioner worked its magic, I entered into a state of sensory bliss. Each of my senses became acutely aware of everything that was happening, from the aromas in the air, to the taste of the water, to the drumming sound of the water as it hit the plastic tub. It was a perfect moment. As I rinsed teh soap from my body, I decided that I would soap myself again. Not to continue the experience, but because I had just purchased a bottle of Dr. Brommers soap and was anxious to use it.
I grabbed a cloth, rinsed it under the water, and poured a healthy amount of the new soap on. I worked the soap into a lather by rubbing the cloth back and forth in my hands, and then began to apply it to my body. The soap itself smelled of lavender and pachouli and the sensation of the cloth was like the exfoliating beeds in the other soap, but more consistent. There's something to be said about not quite knowing when the exfoliation will occur, but knowing that it will occur. There is also something to be said about knowing that the floo of the tub will be littered by dead skin. there are always multiple paths to take and multiple reasons for taking those paths. some days you get to take more than one path. I gave myself the time to take those two paths in the shower and emerged from the water cleaner, and more fulfilled because of it.
As I began to rinse off Dr. Brommers soap, the water began to turn chilly. It closed up more pores, and pulled me up from the brink of inactivity. I washed the rest of the soap off, but not too quickly, rinsed the conditioner off my hair, feeling the smoothness of the soap washing away and the traces that it had left on my hair, turned off the faucet, and opened up the shower curtain. I pulled my towel off of the rack and began drying myself, taking care to dry off the base of my feet before I stepped on the ground, so as not to slip.