Saturday, April 7, 2012

Fire and Ice

My troubles with showers in Europe seem to be a recurring problem.  The simple act of bathing, which I have oft thought myself to be profiecient in back in the US seems to give me more trouble here in Europe.  Our own home is no different.

During the week, we are up freakishly early by Italian standards.  To be at work by 7, I'm normally awake, or grumbling about how I don't want to be awake, at 5:31 AM.  At this time, the only Italian I know to be awake is the gentleman who plays his talk radio excessively loud.  Monday through Friday, I take my morning shower and all is va bene.  Then comes the weekend.  Or those rare days when I am home in the middle of the day and have a desire to bathe.  Those days, it gets bad.

I have 2 theories.  Theory 1: we are sharing a hot water heater with someone in our building.  Theory 2: there is a tiny gerbil hidden in our house who runs on a tiny wheel, thereby heating our water.  By 10 AM, said gerbil, let's call him Gary, is having a little nap and can't run on his little wheel without sufficient notice to make hot water.  Poor Gary, I haven't even found him to feed him....

Theory 1, the shared hot water heater theory, is probably more likely.  On days like today, as I had the audacity to sleep in and attempt to take a shower at 10, the water was fine for exactly 1 minute.  1:01, it went ice cold.  This normally happens post-shampoo rinse out, during the conditioner phase.  Or right as I've suds up.  It's always SUPER inconvenient.  "#)$^*$!!!!  $)%*#&!!!!!"  Explative upon explative fall out of my mouth and my shower has now become unpleasant.  I normally fiddle with the handle, though it mocks me as it no longer has any control over water pressure or temperature.  And then, like Lindsey Lohan's career, it's briefly hot again, giving you the hope that she will leave all of that drug business behind.  Oh wait, I've taken that metaphor a bit too far...

So here I sit, half-conditioned, mostly cleaned in my enormously puffy bathrobe, hoping to heat back up and also that the welts from scalding hot water go down before I decide to wear anything that would show my shoulers.  I mean, it's pretty clearly a first world problem of the most epic proportions, but that certainly won't stop me from complaining about it.

Brrrr... Ahhh!  Hot!

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