Cold; Hot. Temperature When It's Not.
I've been without hot water now for three days. My landlord likes to quibble and say, "well you called on Sunday!". We sure did! And that is: Sunday, Monday and Tuesday! Please. Count differently for me. Dicks.
Actually. Maybe I said 4. Maybe I said four days, extrapolating into the future of tomorrow, Wednesday, when I wake up and either I a) wait two hours (LIKE I DID TODAY) for repair people to show up or 2) I end up taking a COLD F'ING SHOWER just like I did today. I am not a happy camper.
I know that it's part of my rights as a renter to have hot water EVERY day, regardless of weekend or not and I'll be damned if I'm going to stand for some bullshit take on what it is to be clean. I feel disgusting.
I had one hot go at cold showers. It was amazing, actually. I embraced it and was happy about it. I learned something from it. I learned A LOT from it.
I was in Costa Rica. Not a bad shot at a country, I might add. My very good friend, Emma, and I had ventured out into the land and had a go at some volunteerism. Now let me tell you, I was the first to go on these adventures. I loved this shit. Throw me out somewhere in a desert, in a jungle, with friends, family, strangers. I don't care. The more random, the better.
My first real experience with cold showers was, as I mentioned, in Costa Rica. We were in the Monteverde Rainforest (Cloud and Children's), rebuilding hiking trails so they would have less impact when hikers used them. We were staying in a failed commune's building. I was bunking with Emma, one of my best friends from life, and we together, with 10 other people (or so), shared 90 minutes of generator provided elecricity every evening.
No electircity, no gas, no hot water. The water we bathed in was collected from rainwater. Which is really gorgeous and romantic. Especialy when in the rainforest. But when you were showering in overnight rainwater, it was god damned cold.
We did it. We did it while breathing la mas style. We did it while screaming out loud. I remember the shattering cold it was, and the necessity it was, too, that we took showers after digging, drudging and hiking.
It was cold. But when you're in the rainforest, that's OK. When you're in Brooklyn, it's not.
Going to bed in hopes of a less frigid morning.
Thinking of all of you with all the warmth in my heart. Of which there are a few metric tones.