I think I've just severed my Achilles tendon

I don't know if I've mentioned this, but my shower is approximately the size of a coffin. Seriously. I think it's 3x3x7. Maybe.

For somebody who already finds the process of showering annoying (ugh to being wet), this makes things almost unbearably difficult. I'm constantly knocking the shower head down, causing it to spray straight up my nose—funny the first time, but significantly less amusing the 645 times after that.

I can't shave my legs without twisting into a shape vaguely resembling a pretzel. (I wear pants a lot.) I can't lift my arms to shampoo my hair without cracking an elbow against the wall. I've learned to tread carefully when stepping out of the shower, because usually there's a significant amount of water on the floor from where I've knocked the door open with a knee at some point.

Worst of all, though, is the temperature control. It's one of those ones where you turn it to the left to get warmer and to the right to get colder, and you have approximately 1° of "just right" vs. 179° of "really fucking hot" and "fantastically freezing," as Eddie Izzard puts it. I cannot TELL you how many times in the course of a 10-minute shower I end up with burnt shoulders or frozen fingers. Sometimes simultaneously.

I never thought I would miss my shower at home, which had absolutely no water pressure and needed at least 10 minutes for the water to warm up to bearable temperatures. But it was a shower/bath, and that's a luxury I won't take for granted again.