Things that should be covered in the Geneva Convention

Is there anything in the world more unpleasant than a cold shower? I mean, probably, but first thing in the morning it's about as close to torture as I ever want to be, really.

For some reason the hot water was out this morning at the internat when I went to take a shower at 9 a.m. Taking a shower wasn't really optional, as I was going to brunch in a five-star hotel and had skipped showering the day before (it was Saturday; leave me alone). I let the water run for a solid 15 minutes, begging it intermittently to "warm up, damn you!" It refused. Finally, it was getting on towards 9:30 and I couldn't really screw around anymore on the (slim) chance that my ride would actually be on time.

I don't know if you've ever taken a cold shower—if you haven't, don't—but the minute you get in the shower, you become the Hunchback of Notre Dame, complete with bell-ringing motion as you try to get the showerhead pointed anywhere but at you. Of course, in my shower, any variation from a military "at attention" pose is just asking for a concussion. Basically I turned into a whirligig trying to avoid having cold water on any one part of my body for longer than five seconds. I rinsed my hair by bending my back into a perfect C shape, because there's nothing I hate more than cold water between my shoulder blades.

This was also the shortest shower I've ever taken, clocking in at somewhere under 3 minutes. And as you know, I hate being wet, so I'm kind of the queen of short showers anyway. But this morning I reached new levels of efficieny, and there was even a razor involved at one point. My arms are still, amazingly, attached to my body.

I don't know if I really learned anything from this experience, other than that I tend to take hot water for granted. And that the next time somebody really pisses me off, I'm going to disconnect their water heater, because I can't possibly think of a better, crueler revenge than that.