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childhood trauma: the water box

March 11, 2011

I don’t like showering. Wait, wait, wait, don’t hold your breath. Smell me out, will ya?┬áSure, I like the occasional hot and steamy cascade of water when the weather gets me chilled to the bone. Needless to say, getting cold happened often where I grew up in Washington State, not so much now in Austin.

Zoom in upon Washington and the roots of my relationship with the water box. The shower-abhorring is probably linked to my childhood (aren’t they all?) there. You see, I lived in this antique house that was powered by oil or a wood furnace you had to constantly feed every hour or so.

Feeding the monster in 2010. Not much has changed. (Where is the future?)

Therefore, the heat was not kept going throughout nights. Waking up in the morning meant the heat had yet to penetrate the house. Getting out of bed was a chore. To me, chore equals waking up in a dreamy cocoon and being forced from it to make a short (but horrible) six feet sprint over the frozen floor to the equally chilly bathroom with MY SOUL SPLINTERING IN ICE CRYSTALS (chance capture is pictured below) along the way.


With the completion of submerging myself in steam and turning my skin red, the same race back was necessary. My sopping body had to brace for the cold. Perhaps taking a shot of vodka a la (video below: drunk seal man.. wait for the end)-

and holding my towel between my teeth would have prepared me better to suffer the icicle saws through all points of my body.

My relationship with showering to start is iffy. On top of all that, even though I don’t have much more important things to do with my time (reading and petting the cat), I’m not one for daily repetitions.

The clothing removal, the squeezing of bottles, the scrubbing of hair and body, the rinsing, the shaving, the drying, the clothing selection decision making, the putting on of clothes, and the list goes on. I do want to add that I’ve nearly given up the shaving of the legs (FREEDOM!!).

I realize this process is a part of living and taking care of yourself. I get the same way about food prepping, cooking, chewing, and dish washing sometimes, but I digress.

I belong in the future of The Jetsons slash Star Trek where people go through people-washes, machines zap food into creation, and everything is easy except the interstellar warfare and strife.

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