Today I am grateful for my home shower. I rarely shower at home anymore so it’s a real treat when I do. No I don’t walk around stinking up the place. I’m at the pool at least four or five days a week so most of the time I shower at the “Y”.
It’s no picnic to shower at the Y. I don’t like hauling everything with me because my toiletry necessities list gets bigger every year. The air is bearable, but not exactly warm in the locker room, especially if you’ve been in the pool for almost two hours. Sometimes I have to stand, wet, in the cold, waiting for a shower stall to open up. That’s a pain. If someone flushes a toilet. . .even a mile away. . .the water goes from almost spray to barely a trickle. It’s usually moderately hot, but the head sits high on the wall and refuses to adjust or even tip up for a better spray. One of the three showers is nearly useless, but better than nothing. Or going out with chlorine itching me into a frenzy. Or hair that would give me ultimate brain freeze.
On weekends, when I get to shower at home, I feel like I died and went to Heaven. I turn on the small heater my husband uses even in August and let the bathroom get nice and toasty warm. The water at home gets much hotter than at the Y so I set it to scald and get in when the steam rises like an old locomotive heading out of the station. A steady spray comes out of the shower head. Every time. Even if someone flushes. It’s on a loooong hose so I can direct it anywhere, even over the top of the glass shower door so it sprays the entire bathroom, like my grandson does when he uses it. Whee.
It sounds like a silly thing to be grateful for, but I’m so glad I have a decent home shower. . .and get to use it a few times a week.