It’s in my shower.
There’s no other explanation for the odd way in which time folds and stretches when I vanish behind that plastic curtain.
For example, this morning I turned on the hot water, stepped into the shower, and didn’t have another conscious thought until maybe a half hour later, when I came to my senses to find myself up to my wrists in conditioner, generously running it through my hair. What was I doing all that time? What was I thinking? Where did I go? I have no idea. Did I even shampoo first?
It threw me off so badly, I had to go back and start my whole showering ritual again from the beginning. Wet hair, shampoo (lather, rinse, no repeat), apply conditioner, use body wash on all my other bits and pieces, shave, rinse out conditioner, done. Every single day, exactly the same. It takes ten to fifteen minutes.
So why do I sometimes emerge from the shower to find, inexplicably, that forty-five minutes have passed, leaving me standing in a towel in the hallway with my wet hair dripping on the rug when I should already be completely ready and running out the door?
I’m telling you, it’s a rift in the space-time continuum.
I can see that you’re skeptical, and I don’t blame you. Surely, you’re saying to yourself, there is a more rational explanation for the phenomena I’ve described. And I can see your point. I do admit to having a lot of inspired ideas in the shower. And sometimes, when I’ve been wrestling with the same problem for a while, the answer will just come to me from under a head full of shampoo suds. I’ve even been known to write whole blog posts in my head while I stare at a crack between the tiles and the hot water beats ceaselessly down on my shoulders (of course, remembering what I wrote when I actually sit down at my computer hours later is a different matter altogether.) So I suppose an argument could be made that the mystifying time suckage is of my own invention.
Still, it’s eerie. Sort of like the nine minutes that mysteriously disappear every morning after Paul hits the snooze button on the alarm clock. It seems that we barely have time to blink before the alarm goes off again. What happens to those nine minutes?
I’m thinking alien abduction.