Tubbed out

Had myself a really stressful weekend, nothing doing but work and work and work and watching some 30 Rock on my sister's laptop. Got to finish 'work-stuff' just in the nick of time Monday morning, and turned it in. Now there's nothing left to do but wait to see if anything good comes out of it.

*****

After a grueling day at work, there was no doubt in my mind that all I wanted to do was go home. I needed to relax, to get all the heavy stuff off my mind and just sit on my favorite spot on the couch and stare at the wall. Then I get home and realize that there is something horribly wrong about my apartment... it doesn't have a bath tub. There's no greater tragedy than coming home and remembering that you don't have a tub to soak all your troubles away in. What good is getting your own place for without it?!

So I just sat there on the couch, staring at a blank wall, all stressed that I can't have a bubble bath. Where else am I going to raise my rubber ducky farm? Or hack up my murder victims into itty bitty pieces without creating a mess? Are we cave men, living in a world devoid of the most basic of human comforts? Sure little kids across the world are malnourished and starving, but what good is it to feed them and make them healthy if they are to be subjected to an even crueler fate by not having their own bath tubs with hot water and bubbles?

The great ancient aqueducts of the Roman civilization were painstakingly built on the backs of captured slaves just so the citizenry could be washed clean of guilt and their enemy's blood in bath houses. I'm pretty sure Archimedes would never have solved one of his era's great problems without his tub (nor be running in the streets naked, shouting his now famous 'Eureka!'). And the Japanese would endure hours of being in alarmingly close proximity to naked strangers just to enjoy a hot bath. So why doesn't my apartment have one crummy little tub nor a jacuzzi for that matter?

So I walked over to the bathroom and made some measurements. Turns out, I couldn't fit a tub there even if I wanted to. This has to be some sort of oversight by the architect. Then I walked over to the washing machine, and no, I can't fit in it's tub either. This is quite the problem, as you may imagine.

If only I weren't as destitute as I am now, I would have forked over some cash to a nearby hotel to drown myself in suds and bubbles. In the meantime, there's really no other alternative than a cold shower.