That bath made me more anxious

The following is a transcript from my brain last night.

7:56 p.m.

I started watching Wild Wild Country because I thought it would distract me from my anxiety about having to catch a plane at 5:45 a.m. tomorrow morning. But there were too many surprise clips of naked women shouting from the screen at me. It did NOT help. What if I am stuck on the plane tomorrow morning next to a shaking, naked woman exploring her religion and calling it "meditation?" OH MY GOD WHAT IF SHE CONVERTS ME? Hang on, let me Google how to take care of this.

7:58 p.m.

"Siri – what will help my anxiety?" ...Okay, let's see what you found. Listen to ambient sounds? No. ASMR videos are for devil worshippers and people who collect the wings of butterflies. Breathing exercises? Pass. I learned how to breathe when I was a baby, dummy. Take a bath? Hmmm. That sounds nice, actually!

8:07 p.m.

Okay, the taps are turned on. I'm gonna put some dishes away while the tub fills.

8:14 p.m.

Well, I forgot to put the bubble bath in and now the tub it just full of clear water. I wonder if I can add it in now?

8:15 p.m.

So the liquid just sort of made a snake formation at the bottom of the tub. So now I'm getting into a snake tub. Great.

8:15:38 p.m.

OH MY GOD IT'S HOTTER THAN THE LITERAL FACE OF THE SUN. I THINK I HAVE THIRD- DEGREE FOOT BURNS. GOTTA GO ICE MY FEET & GOOGLE APPROXIMATE TIME OF DEATH. BRB.

8:25 p.m.

WTF this bath isn't even that hot? Ugh.

8:27 p.m.

Wow. Without the bubbles you can really see everything, can't you? Is that an OYSTER? Oh. Right. The non-dissolved bubble bath.

8:28 p.m.

Okay honestly, when was the last time I looked at my naked body? What shape am I even? Are you supposed to sit cross-legged in a bathtub? I should've turned the lights off. Everything is so pale. So rigid. Are my toes sprouting other toes? Oh God. I just remembered the naked cult lady. She probably took a bath much like this one immediately after her demon meditation.

8:29 p.m.

Okay. Calm. Relax. Breathe. Lay down, maybe? SWEET LORD THAT PORCELAIN IS COLD. Also, do I have spina bifida? I know Mom says Perrin gals just have "bigger bones" but it feels like my spine is made of pork rinds. Oh my God I'm so hungry.

8:31 p.m.

But seriously do I just like, wait here? Like, what's the point of this? I could be filing my taxes right now. Oh God, I just pictured my accountant walking in on me bathing. I bet I'd try to play it cool and say something like, "write THIS off." That's a nightmare. I'm sorry, Angela.

8:34 p.m.

My hands are reminding me of my mortality. I'm going to be prune-y FOR REAL in like, two years. I HAVEN'T EVEN SAID GOODBYE TO MY GRANDCHILDREN YET. I know I don't have grandchildren, but I should probably just like, leave a letter. Like a guide?? "Don't put your junk in other people's junk! Lara Bars will keep you from having a rage blackout in traffic! Be nice to Uber drivers, they might be president one day!"

8:35 p.m.

This isn't working. I'm worried the Uber driver I didn't tip in 2016 is going to be president and kick me out of the world. I should write him a letter.

8:36 p.m.

Should I meditate??

8:36:48 pm.

Oh God, she got me. SHE GOT ME AND I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW IT. CHECK MATE, YOU LUCIFER-WORSHIPPING-MILK MAID.

8:37 p.m.

I am a spina bifida-filled old worm and my Uber driver will probably try to assassinate me en route to the airport tomorrow.

8:38 p.m.

I'll unplug the tub tomorrow morning. Too scared of tub snake.

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