Ray Morgan: The Power of a Good Shower
I once wrote a poem called 'Middle Class Woes' which are a bit like 'First World Problems', and the poem was inspired by the time I ran out of newspaper to wrap something in, and had to use Vogue. We all have those moments of absurd 2017 exasperation when, say, the coffee machine in Waitrose is undergoing maintenance and you'd banked on a free cup of joe before pilates, or my most cringey one of late: Kettle Chips were on offer 2 for 1 (which naturally I had to get) but the bags wouldn't fit in my Guardian tote bag. I have these 'look to camera' moments where I'm like: who am I?
I was raised on Findus Crispy Pancakes, fish fingers and frozen pizza in front of Blind Date! Us kids of the 80s had simpler, beige-food-eating lives! (Disclaimer: my Mum did also do great homecooked food, but the 'fun' stuff like Crispy Pancakes does stick in the old memory bank more...). But now I'm the kind of person who gets annoyed when the supermarket has run out of avocados.
ANYWAY. Jo and I suffered a first world problem when we moved into our gorgeous little flat (our first buy) in March. The shower... was terrible. It was like someone was gently blowing water on you from a great height. It was the embodiment of feeble. For the past few months, I've been unable to properly rinse conditioner out of my hair (the struggle is real). I'd even taken to having a bath before work, which is confusing, because you feel relaxed and zen, amid bubbles and warmth, and then you have to get up and out for work. It didn't quite sit right. Although I did use that time to go through my favourite-songs-to-sing back catalogue while in the bath, apologies to my neighbours if you don't like Joni Mitchell/Jenny Lewis/Haim/Fleetwood Mac/my singing voice. The acoustics in my bathroom are fantastic, what can I say.
A couple of months after moving in, we went on holiday to an amazing 5-star chalet in Cornwall and the shower was so powerful, and beautiful, and jet-ty, I almost cried when I got in it for the first time. SWEET MOTHER OF ALL THAT IS PURE AND HOLY! REAL JET ACTION! WATER THAT PUMMELS! It made us come to a decision...
When we got back, we got three (count 'em) plumbers' quotes, and decided to get it the eff sorted. So last week, some chirpy, strapping chaps came and did us a new boiler, new piping, and 10 hours later the moment came. They'd showed us how the pressure had improved in the kitchen (oh yeah, side note, it had also taken 15mins to run a washing up bowl of hot water previously, hashtag blessed), but it was the shower that was the main decider. We switched it on. The shower almost jumped off the wall it was such strong pressure. HOORAY! we cried. The next day we were fighting over who got to have the first shower. When I got in...I made noises akin to a Herbal Essences commercial (again, sorry neighbours). It was incredible. I'd have three showers a day now if I could.
I know that we're lucky to even HAVE the problem of under-par water pressure in our beautiful Leigh-on-Sea, overlooking-the-garden, perfectly-formed ground-floor bathroom, and a first-world problem it is. But goodness me, now it's fixed, I can't believe we did without it for so long.
Just don't expect me to be as chill when there are no avocados in the shops...