Bathroom Habbits

A long black piece of it floats by me. This is why I have never gone swimming in muddy water before; I'm too afraid of some black snake surfacing up from below me, afraid of splashing away and startling it, afraid of running into the second half of it if I do flee, all the while, stubbornly blinded by the murkiness of the water. This long black strand of hair though is not even remotely frightening, just annoying. I pull it out with the tips of my fingers and let it rest on the lip of the bathtub.
There are a great many benefits to living with 3 other girls in this 80's style dorm complex. The best one by far resides on the toilet seat. No matter how logical it is, boys just don't seem to get how absolutely disgusting it is to sit on someone else's pee. To sit there, feeling the sticky contours of some flat liquid, knowing that your but is in close proimity to someone's shit is the most degrading, irritating things immaginable after you've stood in line for an hour with a full bladder. It is worse when the pee is wet, and carries onto the seat of your underpants after you've stood up and left the bathroom, all the while contemplating how very wise God was in making the urinary tract; it keeps us so humble. When it's dry you can pretend it's part of the toilet seat. "Oh, yes, this is a very old and cracked toilet, seen a lot of ass this one has." Infuriating.
Yes, the toilet is a wonderful part of living with three other girls, the bathtub however is not. I scoop the hairs up as I find them and deposit them in a pile on the side of the tub. When I'm done I sweep my fingers over the surface of the water like a net, and catch the last of them. Then I dump the hairs into the trash can beside the very clean, very shiny toilet. At least when my mother comes to visit I can pull the curtain on the bathtub.