I'm not much on baths. If I want to get clean, it seems to me that you either need two baths, wash and then rinse as though you're a laundry load, or a bath and a shower, and generally I'm done with my shower by the time the first bath would've filled up.
I get the idea of just relaxing in a pool of water, but that's not for me either. Although I did give it a try last night.
I'm jet-lagged here on the Western Pacific Rim. I woke up at 2:30 a.m. (but I was tired enough to have crashed out by 9:00), tried to go back to sleep, nope, not happening. Well, middle of the night in this time zone is middle of the day back home, so I get up to check on things. Sure enough, odds and ends. Send out emails, support, enable, encourage, crush, destroy. Got it all done.
Back in bed. Back to sleep.....
Nope. What now?
This is a nice hotel, and part of the niceness of it is that it's got this big soaker tub, which I looked at and thought, "I'll never use that." But I'm often wrong. Can I take a nice hot bath and relax enough to go to sleep? How do I know unless I try? I'm a scientific-minded guy. I have to test the hypothesis.
I fill up the tub and step in. Not so bad. Recline. Nice enough. Shut my eyes. Can I actually doze off in the tub?
Nope. Too bright. I get out, uncaring how much I drip bathwater onto the floor because it's tile and it's also not my bathroom, click off the lights, get back in, shut my eyes. Ah. Not bad at all.
Getting a little cooler, though. I reach up with my foot, turn the hot water on, and feel the heat diffusing out from the foot end of the tub. The water level rises, up and over my ears. It's warm. It's dark. It's fluid. I feel like I'm going back to where it all started. I reach my foot up and turn off the water. Darkness. Silence. Except...
FWUMP. FWUMP. FWUMP.
Wow, that's my heart? Who'd've thought the sound would conduct through the water that well?
Let's see. Is it going about a beat a second? 60 per minute. Not bad. But what if I'm off by two-tenths of a second? That could be 72. That's a difference. What if I'm off by a full half second? I'm not a guy with a stopwatch, just an idiot trying to relax. It couldn't be at 90, could it? See, when you've had a heart attack, you think about these things.
Okay, let's try something. Let's try to slow the heart down. Nice, even breaths...
WHHHUUUHHHHHH..... FFFFFFSSSSSHHHHHH..... WHHHHHUUUUUHHHHH.......FFFFFFSSSHHHHH.....
It's the sound of my BREATHING through my trachea and lungs, carrying through the water. It sounds I'm in a giant wind tunnel that Lockheed built to test some new hypersonic jet. The sound is deafening, distracting, to my submerged eardrums.
Okay, forget the heart and control the breathing for now. But breathing shallowly isn't working. It's just as loud, only slower.
Now I'm getting irritated, and what's that?
FWUMPfwump. FWUMPfwump. FWUMPfwump.
Good grief, with all the annoyance, my heart rate has PICKED UP. Okay, let's just settle down, relax, get it under control, relax....
WHHHUUUHHHHHH..... FFFFFFSSSSSHHHHHH..... WHHHHHUUUUUHHHHH.......FFFFFFSSSHHHHH.....
That does it. I lift my head out of the water, with my ears back where they're supposed to be, in the air, and the sounds go away. It's just me, the bath, and the darkness now. Now, just put the head against the back of the tub and relax, maybe even doze off....
My feet are getting hot and itchy in the bath. That's not good. Prop up my feet on the sides, and let my thoughts drift....
To work I need to do, things I need to accomplish, house, family, what do I want to do today, am I ever going to get in synch with local time before I get back home and get jet-lagged all over again, and I AM BORED AND THIS WATER IS HOT AND UNCOMFORTABLE.
Okay. Time to get out. I sit up and turn the dial-thing to open up the drain. It does, a little. A thin gurgle. Hm. It's a big bath, and it should be draining faster than that. I turn the drain dial to the right, and it shuts off. I turn it back to the left, and the thin gurgle starts again, turn it more to the left to open it up more, and suddenly there's no resistance to the turning, and the gurgle stops entirely.
What? I turn it to the right. Nothing. Left. Nothing. I reach down and pry the drain open as much as I can, maybe several millimeters. A thinner gurgle. And doggone if I didn't forget to bring plumber's tools, which is guaranteed to happen, because I wield plumbing tools about as well as a plumber could operate my steno machine. I leave the trickle where it is and tell the tub it's got all day to drain.
I get out, dry off, never to return.
And no, I never got back to sleep.