Aaah: The Power...

.... of a real shower. Returning from New York always makes me ponder popular English practices. They have an abundance of qualities, the English. A dry sense of humour, a preponderance of marvelous literature, parks all over central London, a magnificently helpful police force, highly skilled bureaucracy. Much to be admired. What they do lack however, is any understanding of the concept of a shower. A bath, yes. They seem to have a predilection for those, a distinctly alien notion from cleaning oneself. Still, wallowing in a hot bubble bath with music and candle lights is not to be scoffed at. Apparently the Greeks invented the concept of the shower, as only the Greeks can, but it seems to have been seriously lost in translation by the time it made what was undoubtedly a perilous journey across the English Channel. How an Englishman is able to keep a straight face and actually call an apologetically, inconsequential dribbling of either scalding hot, freezing cold, or grossly tepid water, a 'shower', is one of life's great mysteries.
Naturally, natural physical laws dictate that those who love to shower, and can spend many a blissful hours under one, with nary a thought about draining the planets natural resources (she does however compensate with recylcing, public transport, shunning gift wrap and doubling up under the shower), must feel the pangs of denial the strongest. Or is that karma? How many evil deeds would it take to covet other people's showers in this life? When I first moved, that was a necessary condition of residence. Obviously exposure to the inclement weather has re-routed my synapses to the point where I actually forgot to take a look at the shower before signing the lease. Kismet perhaps. Yes, this was a draft when I got back from NY, neglected by other trivial occurrences such as life, and since I began this, I have been sharply nudged by the strong, steady, sensuous stream of warm water from a real shower, and nearly cried at the sight of DDM & Jayals shower in their exquisite new flat.
It's difficult to embark upon a rant when it's fundamentally your fault, which led me to ask the difficult question - would I trade in my flat for one of those showers? The jury's still out on that one. I love my flat despite the hideous curtains, creaking floors, ugh carpeting and that fridge! I actually rather like my bathroom as well, except for that thing they accidentally keep referring to as a shower. But come winter, and you really start to wonder if high ceilings and cosy are words that can match what the English quaintly refer to as a 'power shower' - umm, that's called a 'shower'....
Bet you didn't know that the pressure and temperature of the water is believed to include the release of natural endorphins and furthermore, it causes negative ions which are known to ameliorate mood. I can confirm that this is an undeniable fact. It is absolutely true. Why do you think I spent all that time in the shower? For purely therapeutic reasons. Good mental health has never been more critical given the paradox of thrift that pervades. I shall just have to summon up my deepest reserves of pleasantness and well, beg for shower privileges where ever I can (Gumtree maybe: Seeking - Power Shower. Willing to travel.... )