Before this morning, I hadn’t showered since Sunday. I want to walk you through this decline into derelict because it really illustrates the downward spiral of how I have become just a shell of the woman I once was–and a dirty shell at that.
Monday: When I woke up for work Monday morning, I just didn’t see a need to shower. After all, I had just showered the morning prior and I didn’t do anything on Sunday except get very drunk before 5 p.m. and pass out by 7 p.m. With such little effort expended doing so, I didn’t smell and my hair was more than clean. At least it smelled more than clean.
Tuesday: Setting my alarm clock Monday night, I simply forgot that I needed to shower and I set my alarm for what I like to call the ‘Speed 3: Highway to Hell‘ setting. Makeup and food have never held a candle in my book to sleep, and probably never will. So imagine my surprise when I looked in the mirror Tuesday morning, at T-minus ten minutes to lift off, and discovered that I looked like someone had shampooed my hair in Petroleum Jelly. No amount of dry shampoo could have removed all the oil that had somehow accumulated on my head and hair, and I know this because I used nearly a full bottle of the stuff trying. Febreze didn’t help either, although smelling like Summer Breeze all day was somewhat comforting. Setting my alarm that evening, I made sure to leave enough time for an extra long shower, anticipating having to snake the tub at least once during the course of it.
Wednesday: I woke up Wednesday and immediately jumped into my general routine of resetting my alarm for a more suitable time to get up, still keeping in mind that I needed to shower. At this point, I had sound and smell working toward this goal. Through no fault of my own, or something like that, I slept right through my alarm clock and woke up ten minutes before I needed to be out the door. I barely had time to put clothes on, and I’m thankful now I did at least that because I had a lot of meetings yesterday. And they were not the kind of meetings where little to no clothes would have been acceptable and/or welcomed. Well, let’s be real–in no meeting in my then-state would no clothes be welcomed.
Long story short, I showered today. Just in time for the weekend, over which I do not plan to do so again. For those of you who see me regularly over the weekends and are wondering how I look and smell so fantastic all the time? It’s a healthy combination of dryer sheets, hats, Febreze, large sweatshirts, and confidence in being a shamefully dirty human. The latter is key.