How I Woke Up This Morning

Usually I wake up to something like this.

Or this.

But this morning, despite cat noses in the eye, I just couldn’t quite wake up and we’re meeting my dad and Diana in Seattle later to go hear Beethoven’s 9th at Benaroya Hall.

Normally, I take a nice leisurely bath to soothe my aching bones, but, given that we actually needed to get going, I decided on a shower.

When I take a bath, I usually clean out the tub with the shower head first. This works quite well, except that it leaves behind a shower drip.

A cold drip that hits just every now and then, startling me in the soothing bath. Or, even worse, landing right on top of the page I’m reading. Recently, I came up with a brilliant way to get around this. There’s a little hook to the right of the shower. If I dangle the shower head from the hook, the leak goes down the side of the shower, missing me.

Yesterday, I did this, all according to plan, noticing that Barrett had put a new head on the shower and left it on super spray. Perfect for cleaning out the tub. Huzzah, Barrett!

Today, I forgot all about it. And I was cold. So I thought it would be wise to spend some more time in my pajamas and to turn the shower on to get it all heated up before I got in.

Except that, having forgot about the day before, I also forgot that I’d left the shower hanging to the side on super jet spray, so when I turned it on–

–it was pointed straight at me.

In super spray mode.

It hit me in my jammies with a not-yet-heated-up-ice-cold-jet-that-was-like-a-fireman’s-hose and was so strong it pushed me back into the bathroom door.

That’s how I woke up with morning.

Love to you all,

Bridget