Come on, Live a Little!

This may later be called my most random post (besides the Mad Gab one) but I have to write it anyway. I love to take baths in our tub. I HAD to have THAT tub. We had to design our bathroom just a little bigger so the massive tub could fit in. So, the tub and I, we have a bond. *** I have this thing that happens to my shoulder occasionally, it must be a pinched nerve or something, but for a few days, if I don't take some pretty strong pain killers, I turn into this hunched up crooked malformation, and then one day, something looseness and it goes away. Well, it happened Wednesday. And alas, being pregnant I am without my pretty strong pain medication. (Because it's really not wise to take, say, Vicoden when you're pregnant.) *** I have this really thick, long hair. With hair like mine, it doesn't get wet unless it's also being shampooed, conditioned, and anti-frizzed or a brush will never survive the trip through. *** Last night, in an attempt to help the shoulder situation, I decided to relax in the tub. Armed with my brand new issue of Real Simple I drew the bath. I slipped in, and started reading, being ever so careful not to get any drips or splashes on my magazine, and resting my head carefully on the rim to keep my hair dry. I'm not sure how many baths I've taken with this same careful dry-hair management. But last night was different. I was bugging myself with my own practicality--don't get the magazine wet. Don't get your hair wet. Relax, but not too much or your hair and the magazine might get wet. Without really deciding it, I put my magazine down on the counter and sunk down. All the way down. My hair swirled around the bubbles from the jets and the boiling sound engulfed my submerged ears. It was heavenly. My hair is still wet this morning, but I don't care. I have decided to live a little. And if this pathetic step is the first, so be it. :o)