Although I love my little house, there is one thing it lacks that i knew I would miss, especially in these coming winter months, and that is having a bathtub. Although I must openly acknowledge how much time I save by spend 10 minutes in the shower as opposed to an hour in the bath, on chilly quiet nights like these, I'd kill to be able to pop in the plug, run some scalding hot water and sink down beneath the surface.
Please, I ask, do NOT start in on the whole 'sitting in your own filth' thing. If you're bathing/showering often enough, there should only be a minimal amount of filth to soak in, and I think it's safe to say it would be well diluted. My god, I work in an office, not a coal mine. How much dirt can I possibly accumulate in one day??
Hooboy. If the kids weren't in bed, I'd consider sneaking over to my parents place with a good book and some bubbles and soaking over there. Their's is one of those fantastically deep tubs with the slanted back. Ohm. There's nothing worse than a bathtub that isn't deep enough.
Back when I was hospitalized with my first DVT, I was in the hospital for a good four weeks. Although I received or gave myself (depending on how I was feeling) a 'wash' each day, there eventually came a time when it was decided a real wash was needed.
Three weeks bedridden makes one a little ripe and uncomfortable.
Since i was not able to stand or walk at this point, I was given access to the special whirlpool bath in the hospital. It's a tub that lets you remain in an upright sitting position (similar to a kitchen chair) and fills to roughly shoulder-depth.
And there are jets EVERY-FREAKING-WHERE. Oh my god. The thought of this tub almost makes me want to get sick again. Almost. Since then it has been my dream to have something similar built when I eventually own my own house. If not, just one huge whirlpool tub, or a old-fashioned clawfoot tub.
I won't lie and deny that pretty much every place i have lived, I have sabotaged the emergency drains by turning them upside down, stuffing plastic bags in them, encasing them in dollar-store contraptions, all in an effort to make the deepest bath possible. I've also on occasion, allowed myself to nod off in the tub while reading, only to wake cursing after I've dropped my book in the water, or shivering because the water temperature has dipped.
Nope, nothing would please me more at this very moment than to slip into a hot bath.