Ever have one of those days? One of those weeks? The kind where everything gets your back up, and you feel like you’re the only sane person in the world, and why can’t eveyone just understand what you’re getting at? You feel like every step you take is against a hurricane-force wind, uphill, through a crowd of people standing with their eyes closed and their fingers in their ears as you try, through gritted teeth and bright smile, to communicate?
Oh, yeah. Often.
Kate, babe, I’m with you. You have my sympathy.
If we could only direct our lives from the bathtub. With a stack of good books, a cup of tea or a glass of wine (depending on the hour of the day), good music nearby. As an extra treat, a nice box of chocolates close by, but not too close so the warmth of the stress-bleeding bath melts them, or so that you don’t eat them too fast. (Can you tell I’ve managed to get this down to a science?)
Baths, however, in my world, no longer give me the relaxation I need. It’s odd, but somewhere over the past ten years or so I’ve been on my own, a bath has lost its charm. It used to be that when I was upset, I’d go into the bathroom, run a bath, add bubbles, oils, the whole nine yards. Book. Candles. Music. Cat. (No, not in the bath, next to the bath, and I didn’t put her there. She just likes to curl up next to the warm bathtub. Okay, and swish her tail around in the warm water. And play with bubbles.)
I’d sink in, and sigh. And just like that, I’d melt, and everything would be bearable.
Now, though, I’m just as tense in the tub as I am out of the tub. It’s really frustrating. You start the routine, get in, close your eyes, expect the warmth and the gentle aromas to start working, and you end up staring at the ceiling after half an hour, wondering why you’re not all soft and floaty.
It’s a relatively recent development, within the last four or five years, I’d say. Eight baths out of ten, I get next to no soft floaty relaxation.
I don’t think the quality of bath has decreased, which means it must be me. Am I too stressed for a bath to relax me? Is it living with someone? Do I need new towels?
Baths shouldn’t be work. Baths should be mindless comfort. Baths should not stress me because they are not relaxing me.
I think I’ll go play my cello. (Yeah, right. Like that will relax me.)