Water Logged


I just noticed that Whitney Houston and I have the same birthday, August 9th.  She was a few years younger than I am, but we are both Leos.  I have noticed another similarity;  (aside from the fact that we both have ex-husbands, awesome singing voices and  great hair I mean,) I too like to sit in a hot bathtub with a cocktail.  Granted mine is usually an ice cold martini rather than a xanax/lorazapam concoction,  but I could conceivably doze off once I finish my olives. 

Now please understand that my bathtub serves as sort of a haven for me.  During my divorce, I would sit in a hot bath reading books like "How to Rebuild Your Life After Divorce" which at the time might as well have been, "How to Start a Solar Powered Windmill Farm" as brushing my teeth seemed just a little out of reach, never mind reconnecting with old friends and getting all new linens.

I have a heinous memory of sitting in the bath for quite some time and as I went to step out, slipping and falling on my soggy, wet ass.  As I watched the red welt beginning to form on my left cheek, my anger started to rise.  I threw my robe on and marched into the family room where my two sons were watching 
Pawn Stars and informed them, "Mother just fell out of the bath tub.  From now on you will have to help me," at which time they both ran gagging from the room.  Obviously, this was said in anger and would never come to pass, but it brings me to this question, if I did drown in the bathtub who would find me?  Would they know enough to put  my robe on before calling the coroner? (The silk one from Victoria's Secret, not the fake chenille one from Kohls?) Would they blow dry my hair for me so that I don't arrive at the morgue looking like a seal?  Most importantly, would they be smart enough to dispose of the martini glass and empty toothpick that I'm sure they found at the bottom of the tub?

As horrifying as it is to think of someone seeing my dead bloated body in a tub, it is not enough for me to give up bathtub drinking.  There is nothing better, than coming in after a girl's night out, and relaxing in that tub with one last cocktail, reliving the crazy antics of the evening, while looking forward to my bed and Real Housewives filled DVR.   Better yet, to sit in a hot tub, steam rising, with said cold drink, looking forward to a night full of possibilities, whether it be meeting Mr. Right, or discovering a new sushi roll that does not have cream cheese squeezed into the middle of it.  It's the best.

Anyway, for now, I will just have to hope that if I do doze off while imbibing, water filling my nose and throat, will be enough to jar me awake.  If not, note to whomever finds me:  there is a lovely white silk robe hanging at the very left of my closet, please use it.

Comments

  1. "Would they blow dry my hair for me so that I don't arrive at the morgue looking like a seal? " This brought a much needed laugh! Sometimes it's thoughts like this that are the only reason I wash my underwear or throw out the empty wine bottles.

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