Three out of three bathtubs in my life are useless. Which makes me think that maybe I'm just not meant to be a person who takes baths. I never wanted to take baths, in all those years of having a functional bathtub. Now I want to take a bath and no bathtub will have me.
We are in a lovely Airbnb, booked without knowledge of the existence of a bathtub, known lack of hot tub, and upon arrival discovered that (lo and behold!) there is a bathtub. Husband lovingly encourages night-bathing but I abstained, to allow the lingering, lovely anticipation to last until morning. Filling the bathtub did seem to take a bit longer than expected, and once in, the warmth and soothing smell overtook me. Then that fateful sound. The draining. It was happening yet again. So there I sat in a bubble-filled, Lorien-sized bathtub with book and coffee at my side, and the fucking thing is draining. I put my hand over the drain to confirm but as a person-not-meant-to-bathe, I'm quite familiar with the sound. So my lovely bath lasted a total of 45 seconds. I tried to refill the drained part, thinking, it's raining, there's no drought, maybe I can last a minute and a half! Alas, no. There was no more hot water.
So that was the end of that. On a positive note, the bathroom has its own heater, so you can stay warm while sitting in your cold-water, draining bath. And the fluffiest towel I've ever seen to dry the still fresh bubbles off your body. Small pleasures.
Saturday, March 14, 2020
Frantically Groping for Inspiration
I haven't written in a while.
I think it's been a devastating lack of inspiration, or an adept suppression of any unnecessary thought patterns. Which under normal circumstance is a healthy coping mechanism, until all of a sudden, like the breaking of a dam, my thoughts start taking over again. And then the only things I can do to stop them is high intensity cardio or writing. So here I am. All Orange-Theoried and blogging.
It's been a school year of questioning my purpose, and my success at achieving my purpose over the last 11 years (and the last, say, 60 years of American history). The statement that every day feels like a battle doesn't really fully describe the magnitude of the problem I have on my hands at the moment.
I think I've been talking too much. I don't know how to stop, though. I feel like every person I can retain as an audience needs to hear the message. But the ones who listen to me already agree. How do you unify a fundamentally inequitable system? How do we recover from the fundamental lack of understanding that people with disabilities are PEOPLE and to participate in the world the way non-disabled people can requires stuff. And stuff requires effort. I feel like it's 1953 and we are on the verge of another civil rights movement right here in MDUSD. But its fucking 2018. What the fuck.
I think it's been a devastating lack of inspiration, or an adept suppression of any unnecessary thought patterns. Which under normal circumstance is a healthy coping mechanism, until all of a sudden, like the breaking of a dam, my thoughts start taking over again. And then the only things I can do to stop them is high intensity cardio or writing. So here I am. All Orange-Theoried and blogging.
It's been a school year of questioning my purpose, and my success at achieving my purpose over the last 11 years (and the last, say, 60 years of American history). The statement that every day feels like a battle doesn't really fully describe the magnitude of the problem I have on my hands at the moment.
I think I've been talking too much. I don't know how to stop, though. I feel like every person I can retain as an audience needs to hear the message. But the ones who listen to me already agree. How do you unify a fundamentally inequitable system? How do we recover from the fundamental lack of understanding that people with disabilities are PEOPLE and to participate in the world the way non-disabled people can requires stuff. And stuff requires effort. I feel like it's 1953 and we are on the verge of another civil rights movement right here in MDUSD. But its fucking 2018. What the fuck.
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