Cold Showers
Dear Friend,
The doctor told me to take cold showers.
“Don’t shower in hot water,” he said, “That will surely irritate your hives. Take cold showers until they disappear.”
So, I’ve been showering in cold water for one week.
Here’s one thing I know for sure: I can’t stand cold showers.
About fifteen years ago, I lived in a condo whose pipes gave up the ghost every winter. My stomach would drop as I read the makeshift signs posted in the foyer: Hot water not working.
I couldn’t believe it. I asked my roommate, who owned the condo, how long the outage would last. She scratched her head, shrugged her shoulders, and giggled.
That evening, I prepared myself for a chilly battle. I had my towels and robe within arm’s reach. I did a few jumping jacks to warm myself and lessen the shock of cold that was sure to overcome me.
I turned on the water, took a deep breath, stepped into the shower, and screamed.
I felt like I was standing beneath an icy waterfall and would die of frostbite. My roommate knocked on the bathroom door.
“Are you okay?”
I wanted to yell, “Of course, I’m not okay! None of this is okay! How can they shut down the hot water in the middle of January? This is inhumane!”
But in reality, I shivered and whimpered, “Yes.”
My attitude toward cold showers hasn’t changed. This past week has been brutal. I still shriek when I step under the cold current. Then I retreat to a corner, lather myself with soap, and rush back under the chilly stream.
I have perfected the art of the five-minute shower. Someone give me my water conservation medal. And a chocolate-chip cookie. With a glass of almond milk.
My mother, who I’m convinced has lava running through her veins, loves cold showers. She snacks on ice and sleeps with the fan blowing, even during winter. She also showers in the dark with only a sliver of light from keeping the bathroom door ajar.
Now that I think about it, she’s a bit strange, and I probably shouldn’t compare myself to her. But I admire her fortitude and ability to survive an impending zombie apocalypse in which they will surely cut off our hot water and make us shower in the dark.
All kidding aside, I look forward to enjoying hot, luxurious showers again. Such simple things in life make all the difference.
Love and Light,
Ebony
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