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Solitude?

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

The hot water was revitalizing as it fell from the ceiling shower head onto my body. I love standing under it. Its like standing beneath a hot spring fed waterfall. I'm in complete seclusion with nothing but my thoughts. I never sing in the shower as others I know confess to, I like the solitude it provides. Sometimes I think and other times I just zone out and concentrate on the feeling of the falling water. This day I did a bit of both.
I stood allowing the water to drench my body before leaning my head back to let the soothing rain fall on my face. I don't think many people realize what a blessing a hot shower is, I was thinking. I ran my fingers through my hair to thoroughly ready it for shampoo. I raised my head up as I swept the wet tresses from my face. Now I had encountered the first decision of my day, which shampoo to use. Did I want moisture or hydrating? I began to wonder what the difference was. Just a marketing ploy I decided so I went with the one that smelled the best.
I was enjoying being alone and savoring every minute of blissful peace while I worked the shampoo into my hair and scrubbed my scalp. I wondered why so many people stop with just lathering their hair and rinsing, never scrubbing their scalp. That's where all the yuck is and it's disgusting to smell that on people that neglect that little bit of hygiene. Thank God I quit cutting hair over twenty years ago. I tilted my face up once more to let the water rinse away the rich lather. I was aware of the foamy bubbles running down the center of my chest and onto my stomach as well as moving down my back to my waist before being dispersed by the force of the water.
As I reached for my scrubby I noticed the bathroom was thick with steam and that Georgia, my cat, was sitting on the tile tub deck watching water droplets move in jagged lines down the clear glass wall. I looked down for the shower gel in the midst of my array of shampoos and conditioners. Dang it! It was upside down. Why the hell does the do that? I really hate to use the wash after he's turned it on its head, after all the bottom goes down right? I hate it because, ok here's another one of my little eccentricities, water fills the cap and when I turn it right side up the cold, icky, shower water rushes out of the cap and down my hand and arm. Weird I know, but hey doesn't everyone have those quirky little annoyances?
I squeezed the White Tea and Almond gel on to the scrubby and began to wash my arm. Arms are always first followed my chest, back and I work my way down from there. Once again I was savoring the complete calm of my morning ritual. There was no one to bother me, no questions to answer, just me and Georgia. When I open my bedroom door there's nothing to stave off the chaos that is waiting. I was trying to decide where Cole was on his hitchhiking adventure as I washed away the soap and turned off the shower. I grabbed the squeegee just as I had after every shower for the last ten years and wiped the water from the glass. I watched Georgia as she was trying to catch the streams of falling water as they made their way down the clear glass walls.
Stepping out I had the feeling that this was going to be a good day as I grabbed up a thick Turkish towel and wrapped it around my dripping hair. The calmness of the morning had penetrated my being and brought with it a sense well-being and peace. I looked in the mirror at my still wet body. Not bad for 46 I thought and once again was so glad I chose the cosmetic surgeon I had. If nothing else, I have great boobs, he did a killer job!
I checked out my new tattoo and applied lotion to my damp skin. I was thinking of my grandkids and kids as I rubbed the perfumed lotion on my arms and behind my neck. I can never change my perfume, Beautiful, the kids all think of it as Mom and Nana's scent. That's ok, I love it as well. I finished up with a spritz of perfume on each wrist and on the back of my neck.
As I dropped the towel from my head I realized how long my hair had grown since I had, in a state of anger, told my stylist to it cut off. Boy was that a stupid thing to do, never again. I couldn't find my brush; it wasn't in the bottom drawer with the rest of my hair things. Jeff must have taken it again. Why does he do that? His brush is exactly like mine except for the color. But for some reason he feels it works better on his hair. What hair? It's only a half inch long. Whatever, it's not that big a deal.
I brushed my hair out and sprayed it with a papaya based leave in conditioner, rubbed in a body building crème and finished with a lusterizer. I picked up the blow dryer and began drying my hair. Man it really had gotten long, just about 6 more inches and I'll be happy with it. I bent over and flipped my head upside down. I brushed through my wet locks as I moved the blow dryer back and forth. I noticed my toenails looked like I had been scratching the ground for worms. The white tips of the French pedicure were chipping and ugly. I have to get a pedicure soon. Lost in thought about my horrible condition of my feet and hearing nothing but the hum of the dryer's motor I was once again in my own world, cocooned from the from the day ahead for a little while longer.
Without warning the bathroom door opened and I heard a deep voice. "Hello?" Being scared crapless I screamed and, for some reason known only to the Gods of Fear, I jumped up and back. That would have not been a problem had I not been standing in front of the soaking tub. When I jumped back my legs caught the edge of the tiled tub deck, while my unclothed body was still moving back. I fell right down into the tub, legs and feet in the air as I landed and hit my head on the back edge of the tub.
So there I was awkwardly positioned, naked in a big soaking tub and the blow dryer was still in my hand.
"What the freak are you doing?" I screamed before I added "And don't even think about laughing!"
Jeff stood there stunned at what he had just witnessed before coughing out "I just stopped by to say hello."

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