Stress reliever

This is the tale of how a crappy Friday ended up being a very happy one instead!

I had been sick all week but my parents still insisted on me going to school, so when the alarm woke me at 7:15am and I had endured yet another night of precious little sleep due to constant overnight coughing, I was in a rather foul mood. I again pleaded my case to stay at home but again I was told 'off to school with you, Taylor'. I stood around for 10 minutes in the rain waiting for the school bus, this after a week that has seen me struck by a head cold. All this before the bell even rang for my morning classes.

The day at school was actually going OK until the final two classes of the day - double Maths. One hour and 20 minutes of trying to force my brain to comprehend something it wasn't designed to interpret. During that hell of a double class my cough played up again. For about 30 seconds or so I couldn't stop it and when I finally brought it to an end, the teacher fixed an unimpressed stare at me, with every one of the students turned towards me.

"Taylor, are you finished interrupting my class?"
[Cough] "Yes sir," I croaked.
"Good. Now keep it quiet and concentrate. You have exams coming up in two weeks and you need to be paying full attention," he replied unsympathetically.

What a jerk. I sat through the remainder of the lesson in a state of depression owing to my cough, my inability to understand theorems or whatever that crap is called and the rank ignorance of Mr. Stone.

It didn't get any better when I had to recount the events of the day to Mom and Dad, but then came an announcement that changed the complexion of the evening. They told me they were going out for a few hours to a friend's wedding anniversary dinner, meaning I had the house to myself. Once I knew they wouldn't be due home until after midnight, that lightbulb in my head illuminated. Bath time!

I didn't even have to wait too long for them to depart, and Mom did kiss me goodbye on her way out, so with my first external smile of the day I bolted upstairs and ran the bath. I changed out of my dreary (yet sometimes sexy!) school uniform into a pink hoody, skinny pink jeans and the cutest pair of rainbow socks. After 10 minutes there was plenty of water in the tub and I was ready.

Flicking my hand through the water to check its temperature, I lifted my right leg into the tub and lowered it into the water. I felt my socks becoming wet in an instant, admiring the tiny bubbles that emanated after dropping my feet underwater. I then stepped in fully, took two steps back and gently lowered myself into the bath. I stared down at my skinny jeans as I gradually sank them under the water, again revelling in the beauty of the bubbles that so temporarily appeared.

I sat down in the tub, everything below the waist now completely soaked, and splashed my feet in and out of the water for a few seconds. I bent my knees, sitting forward as I did so, and brought my upper body closer and closer to the water. I felt the back of my hoodie getting wet before throwing myself completely under the surface.

When I emerged from under the bathwater, my recovery was complete. I realised then that I hadn't coughed once during my clothed bath...so that was the cure! I knew I had the world of time before my parents would be home, so I splashed around in the tub for almost half an hour, happy as anybody could be as I wallowed in my own wetness.

When I finally decided to literally pull the plug on my awesome bath, the frustration of that horrendous Maths class was a distant memory. Mr. Stone wasn't around to tell me to get out of the tub or give out to me for getting wet with my clothes on. I removed my wet clothes, which I immediately shoved into the washing machine on a fast wash, and changed into my pajamas, gown and slippers.

One episode of Glee later, the wash was complete and I hung the washing on the clothes horse, which was nicely situated near a radiator that was producing plenty of heat. A full two hours before my parents returned, my clothes were dry once more, so I disposed of any evidence of a clothed bath and stayed up watching an Olly Murs countdown on Chart Show TV before going to bed. From the comfort of my darkened room, I heard my parents coming in the door, none the wiser as to what had gone on in their absence. Within minutes they retired for the night and I drifted off to the best night's sleep in at least a week.

I've hardly coughed since. Wet clothed baths are an awesome cure for sickness...and that feeling of crappiness. Not even double Maths seems so bad now! :)

xxx