There was a time when I didn't take many showers. You might think this is gross, but I will tell you it was medicinal. See, I was the lucky girl born with super dry and itchy skin and bathing just made it worse. So the doctor told my mom not to worry about it too much. To skip bath days every once in a while. Or every once in a lot.
And so I did.
I specifically remember at one point thinking, It's been two weeks since I've bathed. Huh.
And then I probably went to find a cat to play with or a frog to catch or an underground fort to hang out in because I wasn't bothered by it so much.
And even as an adult, I don't shower as much as some. I've been known to skip a day or two. Luckily, I am not a stinky person and hardly ever sweat a drop so it's not like it's a big problem.
But lately--well, lately, I've been living for the shower.
And I like it super hot.
Burn off your skin hot.
Tingling on your scalp hot.
I like the feeling of the water running over me, my mascara melting away, my hair, which can sometimes go every which way, just sticking together, finally united and off my forehead, off my face; I like the tiny space I find myself in, the way that I am totally in control of my environment, the locked door I am behind; I like the steam billowing around me, the acoustics giving my voice reverb, the thick soap suds hiding me; I like it so much right now that I think it's a kind of strange therapy. There isn't much talking, nobody asks me soul-searching questions, but there's plenty of singing and thinking and heat and a feeling of clean that pervades.
Which is why I took two today.
