When I moved in to the apartment, at 6am on a day-off-from-practice Sunday, one of my roommates whom I had just woken up by banging on the door, gave me a grand tour. She showed me my room, the kitchen, the washroom. In the washroom, she pointed out which was the hot water faucet and which was the cold water faucet: helpful information for bucket-bathing. As I’ve mentioned before, every time I take a “shower” I turn on the hot water faucet and save whatever hot water I can get– usually just a few inches in the bucket– before it turns cold. I haven’t bothered with the cold water faucet because the hot water turns cold so quickly.
You can see where this is going, yes? This morning I had an epiphany– a life-changing moment, surely– wherein I was moved to try the other faucet. Lo and behold, I have been using the cold water faucet this entire time, and blaming it on India. “They don’t have hot water here! Haha how quaint!”
I’m feeling a little red in the face. And not just because of the steaming hot bucket shower I just took.