Stop the Presses! I Just Took a Shower!

In the middle of the day!

We just returned from a short trip to Ohio, and we stayed in a lodge that had a bathtub the size of small canyon. It was glorious to behold. Well, let me tell you, I ran right out, found the nearest drugstore and bought some of those cheap Calgon type take-me-away-english-garden-lavendar-sweet-pea-herbal-spa-in-a-box bath oil beads and soaked for a good long time in the middle of the day for no good reason. And I wasn't even dirty. What a treat.

 Fast forward to today.

I bought a Lee Child novel, The Affair to read on the plane home.  In it he describes these two guys in a truck who are hassling him.

 Fur. Ink. Hair. Dirt. Grease.

 I love it.  Five words and you have a complete picture of these men.

 While I was reflecting on the economy of Mr. Child’s writing, I suddenly realized I'd been living in the same pajamas for the better part of two and a half days. All the while I was writing a lot and sleeping a little, and eating some more, and writing some more, and then lollygagging a bit, and writing a bit more, too. For two and a half days. Give or take.

 Fur. Ink. Hair. Dirt. Grease.

 I’m not saying the description hit too close to home, but…for some reason a shower seemed like a splendid idea. 

Ah, now that I smell like rose petals rinsed in sunshine, passion fruit and rainbows, I guess I better get back to work!