The water rolls slowly toward me, then bounces off my body and the next wave rolls in. The faucet drips every few seconds; a repair I haven’t fixed despite it being leaky for a matter of months. Years even.
The stubble on my face is soothing as I run my fingers across it, although those miniature tree stumps will be gone in a matter of minutes when I drag the razor’s edge over my skin. It’s not that I like shaving, but I don’t like myself with a beard either, so I lather up and let it sit. I have no idea if it really does anything to let my man mane marinate before the shave, but I’ve got a few minutes so why not, right?
There are a few things I could be doing rather than sit in my bathtub, but I’m not worrying about them today. No. Not today.
I have a few books to finish writing, I have a few books to finish reading, and I have a few items that need editing but I will not do any of those. I have a blog to update, a faucet to fix, and as you already know: a beard to shave. That’s six things and I only plan on doing one of them. Lazy? Maybe. So I’ll end up doing two of them, because I could always post this rambling train of thought online for my blog. In fact, I will do that. So count that as two out of six. I accomplished 33% of my goals today. It’s not even daylight and I have yet to put on clothes so I’d say I’m winning at life today.
VICTORIES FROM THE BATHTUB!
A tiny black spot invades my vision. From the relative darkness of my watery wonderland I spy a miniscule harbinger of doom. It could be a trick of the eye. My laptop is bright and the room is dark, so there’s really no reason that it could be anything but- dammit it IS! It’s a tiny little vampire of blood and enjoyment: the mosquito! First ants and now this? Why has God forsaken me and Mother Nature allowed to have her way with my humble abode? I am but a man, soaking in his circa 1994 bathtub, and waxing poetic about how much stuff he’s not going to get done today.
Why now? It’s coming up on the holiday season. How evil are these little gnats of destruction that they don’t respect my sovereignty?!
Oh crap! He’s coming at me! Dive! Dive! Dive! He’s powerless under the water! Maybe it’s a she… it doesn’t matter! I can’t laptop while underwater so if you’ll excuse-
. . .
I’m back up. After staying under the water for as long as my untrained lungs could muster (around 20 seconds) I’m above surface. I wish I had bothered to lather up my hair before dunking myself into the warm watery bastion of safety; that would have been fortuitous. Productive even. No matter now.
It’s on the tiny Wal-Mart table I use at my tubside. Does it think it’s a thing it can bite? You can’t get blood from my $15 table, you stupid bug! Hahaha you think you can get blood from- OH! It’s airborne again! Come at me needle-face! I’ll drown you in my bathtub of emotions! I’m ready…
It lands again on my Wal-Mart table.
I will no longer be a victim. I refuse to let this insect dictate my life. I will not sit back and wait for his or her inevitable attack on my person. I will go on the hunt! The hunter is now the hunted! How does that feel, itty bitty Hans Gruber? I will not tell you where the detonators are. But I will smear your blood… although I suppose it’s not his blood, because when you squish mosquitoes it’s usually someone else’s blood, but anyway. I will smear the blood inside of you and you will no longer disturb my baths!
I catch him as he takes flight, no doubt aware in some animalistic sense that the tables have turned, and I pulverize this tiny flying needle of a bug. Restoring calm to the world once again.
Make that three things I've accomplished this morning.