Foot massages, steamy sex, a pile of money... yeah, sure, that all sounds fabulous, but all I crave tonight is something I cannot have.*
A hot shower.
Seriously, for my money (little though that be) there are days when a hot shower cannot be beaten on the list of Great Sensual Experiences. When you are tired and aching, when the world has done you wrong, maaaan, a good steaming shower - with some bad-ass water pressure - is the best thang evah.
And, dear lord, I want a shower like nobody's business right now. Today has been damp, drizzly, wet-cold, blah, and it's kicking my messed up back like a junk yard dog. I can't begin to tell you how many times I reheated my rice packs and my Ohio clay, NASA spin-off heat wrap and layered them on my body to find a little comfort. The Aaaaah Factor would last for an hour at a time before I did the hunched over Yoda shuffle back to the microwave to start the heating ritual over again.
All afternoon, I kept thinking, "Hot shower and jammies... hot shower and jammies..." I was also thinking about doing a quick load of laundry and some dishes, too, having a need for Vitally Important Clean Stuff (aka "undies") for tomorrow and something to cook dinner in tonight. I was without a sink or dish washer for a few days, thanks to a sudden spouting of water from the kitchen faucet and the ensuing flood of said kitchen's floor, leading to a sudden lack of clean utensils/bowls/you name it. Yeesh.
Apparently, the old faucet had to be hacksawed off the sink by building maintenance, so rusted were the bolts holding it on. I wish I'd been home to witness that particular maneuver. The maintenance guy was so amazed by how much effort it took him to fix this, he left me a magnum opus written on the door hangtag that usually just reads "Maintenance has been in your unit." HA. He wrote so much about the hacksaw extravaganza, he actually had to flip it over to the other side to continue. I guess I owe him some cookies.
So, there I was tonight, ready for the good old Shower Massage to work its magic on my cracked back. Driving the last few blocks home, that was all I could think of.
And then, I saw the light.
Well, lights, actually. Lots of them. And safety cones. And backhoes.
And I realized that there was a really big pipe break just at the corner of my block.
Water was rushing everywhere, and WSSC guys milled in the rapidly chilling, dark, rainy evening. When I limped up to the door of my building, I could see a pile of notices from management on the message board. I went through the day's sequence to see what had happened:
1. A pipe is broken. WSSC has had to shut off the cold water to your street.
2. Actually, TWO pipes have broken. WSSC has shut off all water to your street.
3. There has been a serious break of two pipes. WSSC has shut down water to the entire property until the repairs are completed.
And, who the hell knows when that will be? Guess I go buy some more bottled water in the ayem. For now, I'm just really, really glad I have a bottle of water for the brushing o' the teeth tonight.
So, in advance, I would like to offer apologies to anyone with whom I have to interact tomorrow. If I look a little disheveled, you can thank the crappy pipes down the street.
*For the record, steamy sex and a pile of money are ALSO things I cannot have tonight. The foot massage, I could do with the nifty Sharper Image back massager from hell that some friends gave me, but now that my mind is wrapped around a hot shower, the foot massage won't do it...