This morning, I found myself in a very rare situation. Rarer than say, hen’s teeth or sober Britney Spearses or whatever metaphor you want to throw at it: there was hot water left when I went to shower.
Maybe that’s an illustration of how sad I am and/or how the littlest things make me super, super excited, but needless to say, I was friggin’ thrilled.
I’m standing there, about five minutes into the maximum seven minutes of hot water available at the best of times, when I started panicking. Something was wrong. Really fucking wrong. Standing with a bar of soap in my non-gimp hand, I’m trying to asses what the hell’s going on, why the walls are suddenly closing in around me and why I’m short of breath.
That’s when I realized I was still wearing my underpants. Happy Friday, self. You are an idiot.
