Tag Archives: Bathroom

100 Words, 100 Days: Day 82. On Showers.

One of the things I miss when I’m away (apart from my bed, that is) is my electric shower. You know the type I mean: flick a switch and water comes out, at the rate you want and, more importantly, at the temperature you want. Too many times I’ve had to wrestle with showers that have lives of their own. You know the sort I mean: water dribbles out at a rate snails would be proud of, and at a temperature that would make volcanoes seethe with envy. Is it too much to ask for a little consistency around here?

 

100 Words, 100 Days: Day 6. On Baths.

I want a bath. Badly. No, I don’t stink; I had a shower this morning before I went to work. But all this running around, from Peter to Paul to Mary then back to Peter again, has left me with a pressing need to soak away the day.

Showers just aren’t the same. You can’t really think in them. Well, not creatively at least. It must be something to do with the constant pressure of water on one’s body.

I doubt Archimedes would’ve come up with his theory of displacement while twiddling with taps and shower gel.

No eureka moment.