Sunday, February 20, 2005
Speaking of showers, this morning, right after I finished getting my hair soaking wet, a quick glance around revealed the minuscule, paper thin remains of my soap bar in the soap dish.
Now, if you've ever showered before, you'll instantly recognize that this occurence put me in a very ackward position, for, in these situations, what you need to do is hop out of the shower tub, tip toe across the cold bathroom floor, dripping nice little puddles at every step, and run to the sink cabinet or your pantry or wherever you keep the new soap bars and return quickly back into the shower before you freeze to death, for as you know, using the towels that you just laid out for your shower to dry yourself won't do, as they would then be wet and rather ineffective when you finally did finish with the real shower (with soap this time, that is).
So this grim picture was flashing across my mind as I stared at the brittle little wafer in my soap dish, and while I stood there, still soaking under the shower, trying to decide what to do, the feeling of helplessness and annoyance at this kind of situation, coupled with the foreboding dreariness of another uneventful, lazy Sunday started creeping in.
Luckily for me, at around this time, out of the ethereal shower mists a thought descended, mantra-like, into my head, and did a cheery little dance before settling in, and it was this:
In shower situations, it is one-hundred times better to realize that you have no soap right after you just got wet, than it is to realize that you have no water right after you just finished soaping yourself up.
The rest of my Sunday was terrific.