I Hate Strange Showers

I feel the need to write this post because when I was trying to explain this to my coworker he was giving me this look like I was crazy. I hate using a strange shower, because I never know how the goddamn thing is supposed to work. Okay, okay I know that standard set up, two knobs, pull tab, and you’re in business. Except where the hell did all these weird ass shower designs come from? Like those handles that you have to turn sideways. The more you turn them, the more water pressure you get, but it’s actually a cruel trap, because the more you turn them the colder the water gets. So in effect you have two choices, you can have nice warm/hot water, or you can have water pressure, but you can’t have both because life is unfair and painful cold. 

 

The worst is what I call the mystery shower, or at least that’s what I call it in my own mind where no one can judge me for it. Shut up. Anyway the mystery show is as follows: any shower with an unfamiliar set up of knobs and levers.

I swear to Buddha, I am not making this up, although in my defense I was very sleep deprived. I was just happy to have reached the point in the day where I could take a goddamn shower. I get naked, obtain a hotel towel that smells like bleach and go switch on the shower. This diabolical fiend was a single knob with no instructions what so ever. Well I had a shower like this when I was a kid, I got this no problem. I pull the knob out and water comes pouring out into the tub. It takes me awhile to get the water hot, because this hotel’s water heaters seem to be taking fucking forever to make any progress and when you’re not entirely sure which is hot and which is cold, well it’s an adventure. I have also noticed a lot of showers at hotels are actually plumbed in backward for reasons I don’t understand but probably have to do with the fact they hired the plumber off craigslist.

Finally! Hot fucking water! Holy crap! I go to turn the shower on and realize there is no other lever. No button. Nothing. How in the fuck do you turn the shower on? 

 

Huh. 

 

I spend a few moments watching my hard won hot water pouring down the drain, and then another few wishing Scott would get in so I could ask him. I should also point out that having to ask him how the shower works is not abnormal in our marriage and I think he’s used to it by now. Any who, here I am starting at something that shouldn’t be happening if there was a fair and righteous god, and I get pissed. God damn I went to motherfucking college and got good grades and by god no cheap ass motel shower is going to stop me from being clean. I seize the knob and give it great yank to the left and to my surprise it pulls out even more and the shower comes on. VICTORY! 

 

I just realized that I probably should not be telling the whole Internet that I have trouble with unfamiliar shower designs, but I’m rather curious. Does anyone else have this problem? I am just crazy. Crazier than normal, I mean. I dunno. God damned showers are stealing my god damn dignity. Fuckers.

Life is kicking my ass.

So in addition my husband almost dying, and then him breaking a rib, our car decided to die on the way to work today. 

We were driving down a mountain behind the most redneck truck I had ever seen. It was a matte black ford ranger with these huge jacked up tires. It looked like they had painted it with spray paint and to add the icing on the hillbilly cake was the three guys crammed into the tiny cab. They slowed down to turn and about that point our car began to make a sound I like to call 'screaming in pain'. 

I don't speak car very well, but I'm pretty sure it was saying something along the lines of “OH MY FUCKING GOD THIS BURNS LIKE LIQIUD FIRE!” We pulled over immanently and got out of the car. The first thing we noticed (and by we I mean Scott) was that the brake rotors on the rear tires were incredibly hot. And by that I don't mean that they were terribly sexy. 

There is a certain sinking feeling one experiences when standing next to the highly advanced machine that you were relying on completely to take you places, that for whatever reason is not working. We looked at the car, and then we looked at the huge mountain we had driven down.* 

“Do you think we can make it home with no breaks?” I asked Scott, trying not to think about how much a tow would cost. 

“Sure,” He said simply. “It's all up hill from here.” 

Of course it wasn't but we ignored that fact. The sound had stopped because the broken thing was now broken and did not see a point in continuing to scream about it. On the way it dawned on us that we had to call the office. Having backed out of several jobs due to illness, I felt terrible about telling Boss Man that we weren't coming in today. 

Boss Man understood completely that this was in no way our fault, and told us just to worry about Scott's stress test tomorrow and to fix our car. He did reveal that the client had wanted to add an extra person, but that he couldn't find anybody, and now he had three slots to fill, which may or may not happen. I felt awful, but even though we still had my Dad's old car there was no way we could drive all the way home, switch cars and then get to work on time. Plus my Dad's car, which is now my car, well lets just say that I'm not sure that it will make the three hour drive to DC and back without dying. 

So now I'm at home. We have already made one trip to the Advance Auto Parts store, replaced some parts, and ordered more parts. Called relatives who know cars and gotten idea of the problem. 

It's gonna cost us.

If my blog was wildly popular I would offer to draw/paint you any goddamn thing you wanted if you gave me ten bucks, and email you the JPG. But nobody reads this blog yet. Yet. Someday. So I dunno. It's a catch 22. My husband is broken, my car is broken, and I can't go to work until both of those things unbroken themselves. 

Pity Party Tonight! BYOB! I'm going to start drinking now. 

* I know if you live near the Rocky's you will claim that our mountains are really glorified foot hills and that you don't know what we are complaining about, first of all fuck you, and second my state does not believe in guards rails or switch backs so why don't you try driving down a mountain with no rear brakes here and see what the fuck happens to you.