Hot Water

It’s so cold tonight.  The heater is broken in my wood-floored apartment, and the weather this week has been subzero by LA standards.  When I got home from work, I immediately jumped into a hot shower in an effort to warm up.  The shower helped, but what I really wanted was a bath.  Not only was I freezing; I was also incredibly tired, and wanted nothing more than to sink to my nose in a long, steamy bath.  The little guy is water-resistant, not waterproof, so it can’t be fully submerged in water, ever.  Oh- and it can never come off, ever.  For the entire year.

I technically could take a bath, just on the one condition that I keep my left ankle propped up the entire time.  Kind of awkward, but if I hadn’t been so tired tonight, I would have said game on and made it work.  I’ll take a slight discomfort if it means having my bath.  However, that wasn’t my biggest concern.  When I’m exhausted and get into a bath, I get so relaxed that I tend to fall asleep.

I kept having this horrible vision of me dozing off in the bathtub, letting my ankle bracelet slip into the water and lose signal, then ten minutes later my door gets kicked down by an armed SWAT team that promptly cuffs me and drags me out of the bathtub and back to the slammer.  If ever there were a time to be naked and handcuffed, this isn’t it.

This particular set of consequences has taken many things from me.  Tonight, it was a bath.

335 days to go.