This is not a story. This isn't even fiction.
One of the hardest things to do for a certified night-owl like me is to wake up at four in the morning everyday, take a bath and go to work. Mention me, Martin Cruz, and people will probably tell you that it is a habit of mine to wake up late, get ready late, and arrive late. And they won't be far from the truth.
They'll be overdoing it, but that's pretty much an apt description of my habits.
However, ever since I got this new position in Stickymedia, I've been relentlessly waking up at the crack of dawn (crack of dawn! so that's why the sun's always high!) and dragging my ass into the bathroom to be bathed by the coldest of mountain waters.
Oh, did I mention that I lived at a mountain? And that the air streaming in from the outside at four in the morning leaves tiny droplets of moisture on my towel once I bring it into the house? If water heaters are for wusses, then one day a wuss shall I be.
Anyway!
This one particular day, I step into the shower, and nearly end up regretting it. I'd forgotten to buy soap the day before, and I had nothing but shampoo to wash up with.
Now here's a dilemma: to be able to wash yourself enough with a bottle of shampoo without wasting too much of it is an Herculean task. The average human body uses up a tenth of a bar of soft soap for a week (at least). Now, I'm a huge guy, and I use up more than the usual amount of bath soaps. Shampoo, which is a more expensive cleaning agent, is expensive compared to soap. So if you're faced with this kind of situation, you'll want to avoid using up too much of the liquid. If you're going to save on hygiene, at least save up on the quantity, not the quality.
So my brilliant solution was to mix a dollop of the shampoo with a dipper of water, and use a brand-new Zim sponge to apply the mixture.
Okay, here's where the stupid part begins: since I usually clean myself with a loofah, I decided that the scoaring part of the sponge might be a brilliant way to scrape away all that dirt and grime. And being the rough surface that it is, it did a pretty good job of it.
Too good, actually. I had arm-long scratch marks throughout my body for the rest of the week, and them buggers hurt and nagged like a bad girlfriend. I have no idea what godforsaken bog of brilliance gave me that idea, but trust me.
That's the last time I'll be using a scoaring pad to clean myself.
One of the hardest things to do for a certified night-owl like me is to wake up at four in the morning everyday, take a bath and go to work. Mention me, Martin Cruz, and people will probably tell you that it is a habit of mine to wake up late, get ready late, and arrive late. And they won't be far from the truth.
They'll be overdoing it, but that's pretty much an apt description of my habits.
However, ever since I got this new position in Stickymedia, I've been relentlessly waking up at the crack of dawn (crack of dawn! so that's why the sun's always high!) and dragging my ass into the bathroom to be bathed by the coldest of mountain waters.
Oh, did I mention that I lived at a mountain? And that the air streaming in from the outside at four in the morning leaves tiny droplets of moisture on my towel once I bring it into the house? If water heaters are for wusses, then one day a wuss shall I be.
Anyway!
This one particular day, I step into the shower, and nearly end up regretting it. I'd forgotten to buy soap the day before, and I had nothing but shampoo to wash up with.
Now here's a dilemma: to be able to wash yourself enough with a bottle of shampoo without wasting too much of it is an Herculean task. The average human body uses up a tenth of a bar of soft soap for a week (at least). Now, I'm a huge guy, and I use up more than the usual amount of bath soaps. Shampoo, which is a more expensive cleaning agent, is expensive compared to soap. So if you're faced with this kind of situation, you'll want to avoid using up too much of the liquid. If you're going to save on hygiene, at least save up on the quantity, not the quality.
So my brilliant solution was to mix a dollop of the shampoo with a dipper of water, and use a brand-new Zim sponge to apply the mixture.
Okay, here's where the stupid part begins: since I usually clean myself with a loofah, I decided that the scoaring part of the sponge might be a brilliant way to scrape away all that dirt and grime. And being the rough surface that it is, it did a pretty good job of it.
Too good, actually. I had arm-long scratch marks throughout my body for the rest of the week, and them buggers hurt and nagged like a bad girlfriend. I have no idea what godforsaken bog of brilliance gave me that idea, but trust me.
That's the last time I'll be using a scoaring pad to clean myself.