Eventaually I had to come up for air and by the time I did the water temperature dropped a degree substandard luke warm. Removing the plug I waste not time as I swing one leg out after the next drying myself off with a towel.
Now that I was up all I could think about was getting dressed.
I shiver when I start to feel cold breeze filter through the slit of the door.
Feeling goosebumps prick my skin, I jump into my sweat pants fast as I could and put a sweatshirt over my head, both arms fisting through the sleeves.
I didnt bring a hairdryer with me so I expertly wrapped the towel around my hair until it sits neatly on top of my head. Like a beehive.
Socks over my shoulder I swing open the bathroom door exposing a billow of hot air to follow en suite behind me. I walk barefoot on the carpet all the way to the dresser where I kept my toiletre bag.
Opening the top drawer I take out my bag of essentials, a small plastic cheap thing I got as a free sample. I pull the zipper straight across, exposing a shiny label in the middle as I caught sight of the tubular bottle.
Singling it out I squeeze a dime size amount and soothingly rub the lightly scented non-oily moisturizer all over my face and neck in small circles like I'd seen models do in all those commercials.
Once I'm all soft and lathered up I put the cap back on, twisting until I heard the last notch and sort it back in the correct place, because otherwise the stupid zipper wouldnt budge open or close. I put the cosmetic bag back where I would find it, closing the drawer.
After grabbing a few extra layers to keep the cold away I cross the carpet over to my bed and find a quiet Chanel floating right above my headboard sitting down much like a kindergartener would at the circle rug for a sing along.
"I never sleep." came her strained whisper.
Poor girl. I resisted the urge to run over to her because there was no consoling her when she was like this.
Chanel only made that resigned submissive look when she was reflecting. Whatever she was thinking about was a difficult memory to relive.
I grimmace. Not for the first time did I wonder why I continued to rectify this twisted friedship. I struggled with the sense that I was doing Chanel more harm by interacting with her.
I worried if seeing me intensified feelings of resentment because I embodied what she didnt have.
I feign horror in my voice so at the very least she would get that in my own way I was having a rough adjustment. We were in this together no matter what.
"If its any consolation the matress sucks." I pout grabbing at the back of my neck to massage the kinks away.
Firmly pressing my fingers on the taught muscle I start to work up a message with menial effort. I was too tired to give a damn about my sore back.
"Oh, honey." Chanel looks at me with kindness and love and laughs. "You sound just like you do in your sleep."
I groan embarassed. "Please. Dont remind me." Blissgully ignorant was how I chose to live. Whatever singular conversations I held during REM entertained Chanel as the days changed and I had to get ready for another torturous day at Starkhouse.
As per my nightly ritual I sit on the edge of my bed and stretched on a pair of long white tube socks until they rolled mid calf. My legs were fully covered and resembled what I thought looked like beaver logs and after putting on two more cotton long sleeves I was sporting a nice big tummy and wide arms.
Once I was layered up and ready to get under the covers I had no neck like the Michelin tire boy.
Since I was anemic I bundled up right before I went to bed. The regimented act never fully warmed me up but it somewhat did the trick.
No comments:
Post a Comment