Guilty Pleasure

Today I indulged in a guilty pleasure. I took a bath. Yes indeedy, a bath! This was not an issue of cleanliness.  It was simply self-indulgence on a raw winter day. Everybody showers. Up, in, out! Just like that.  A matter of hygiene. But a bath, oh a bath; that lingering soaking in a steamy hot tub, water caressing your achy, weary bones.  It feels so good.

I stole an hour and allowed myself the luxury of lollygagging in the tub. I turned up some music; I turned off the phone, and filled the tub nearly to the brim with hot, steamy, water. I placed a bar of my favorite locally handcrafted soap, "French Champagne" into the tub. Then I plunged first one foot, then the next, into the water, breaking its smoothness and parting the steam in the tub.

I immersed myself in this tub full of water, then leaned back on the softness of my bath pillow, sinking into the warmth of the water, my eyes closed. Lap, lap, lap, the gentle sound resulting from the movement of my body. I was floating, and I could stay here forever.

Finally, the water cooled. The skin on my fingers and toes shriveled and became prune-like in texture. So it was time.  Time to get out of the tub, time to move on with the day.

But it was alright, because later in the day I'm reminded of my private retreat when I smell the scent of "French Champagne" on my skin. Yum! The only thing that could be better is - chocolate.

My Life with Stephen Sondheim and His Friends

Playing Through the Pain