Things for the last few weeks have been pretty manic. I am getting home from work late, getting up late and readying myself for work in shorter times, despite leaving everything to do until that morning. Last night, I went to bed without having ironed a shirt. This morning, I needed to be out of the house in about fifteen minutes. I brought the shirt with me and tried to hang it in the shower. Yes, this is very lazy. I’ve only ever done this once before, when I was in a hotel in Rome that charged €7.50 for each garment to be ironed. The rim of the shower didn’t allow for the shirt to be hung at an adequate distance from me. The coldness in the air did not allow for an adequate amount of steam to rid my shirt of creases. There I stood in the shower, lathering up a storm and my purple shirt hung next to me. I showered in a particular fashion to ensure I didn’t drench the shirt by needlessly sloshing water about the place. Just as I was almost finished, I raised my arm to wash my hair. The water rain down my shoulder, along my arm and flicked from my elbow and on to my shirt. My shirt was wet.
It serves me right for being such a stupid, lazy sod.