my ordeal

Yesterday, I had me a meltdown, a flipout so intense that it cancelled itself out, dropped me like a stone. Even so, I shot bolt-upright out of bed a couple times during the night, and got up before the sun today. I've been sort of hollowed from it ever since, and my bones were bellowing for a bath. Yes. The dreaded dwarf bathtub thing rears its ugly head again.

I'm wiped.

I reeeeeeally needed it, which, as you well know, is the only time I'll do it, because it is so demoralizing to even contemplate making a habit out of my not-a-tub. But I have just emerged from the part-by-part tribulation, and blessing the handles the former owner had bolted to the bathroom walls. Sheesh. Transcendentally inelegant! Nothing like the peaceful soaks of yore, often with a snifter floating in there with me after a long hard day. I'm as bedraggled as if I were just back from replanting the forest, grubbier than God, needing the infernal contrivance, not just out of it.

Where is the bathtub bodhisattva?

Digital tubs are better than the smirking insufficiency reproaching me so contemptuously at the other side of my house just now. I'd rip it out, just so it will stop irking me, except, of course, then I would have no resort at all. I know. I know. It could be cold with turds from my upstream neighbors floating past me....