It’s Not Where You Start: Singing in the Bathtub

Originally published on It’s Not Where You Start.

I love to bathe.

Please don’t misunderstand. I am not obsessively-compulsively concerned with hygiene. Not do I get some sort of perverse thrill from the shower or bathtub. But I love the experience of being surrounded by fresh water combined with the pampering bath products can provide.

My time in the shower each morning is me time, when I can adjust to the waking world while gathering my thoughts for the day. Unlike other quiet moments these days, my showers haven’t been invaded by creeping sadness or maddening “what if” scenarios.

So it happens that this vacation has been puncutated by several showers and baths each day. Every morning, I need to shower before leaving my room, no matter how clean I might already be. I can occasionally skip a cup of coffee, but the morning version of me doesn’t really function wihtout the wakeup call of the shower.

I’ve made it to the gym here every day. The gym at Planet Hollywood is located within the spa, so the facilities are pamper-level. Well, the gym machines themselves are average and sparse (but good enough for the meager crowds). But the locker rooms are something else, with lounge areas (including fully stocked refridgerators), sauna, steam room, jacuzzi, the whole works. And, naturally, after sweating in the gym, the sauna, and the steam room, one must shower. While the showers themselves are fine, the bathing products available provide a delightful change of pace.

Following the gym, it’s only natural to take advantage of the 90+ degree weather and hit the pool. Following the suncreen and chlorine, of course, one must bathe again.

Yesterday, I decided to put the bathtub in my room to a test. I know there are some of you who are appalled that I would use a hotel bathtub, but honestly, it’s probably cleaner than the one at my house. And this one is deep and perfect for soaking in bubbles, so that’s what I did. Of course, in (over)filling the tub, I caused some kind of drain backup that stopped by sink from draining and pushed black, stinky sludge up through the shower drain. (No fear, the hotel engineer was up immediately to fix the issue, quickly followed by housekeeping to clean, disinfect, deodorize, and reset my bathroom.) I refuse to read any hidden message into this incident.

Today, I’m already one shower into the day (attempting to fight my emerging hangover), and looking at another two at least between now and my brother’s big party tonight. Some people relax with drink or drugs, others with good literature or trashy television. I relax with water and scented, soothing products. In the scheme of indulgences, I think I’m doing okay.

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