Bathtime is no fun

I'm not sure why I have never let it sink in that I am just not a "bath" kind of a girl. In theory, it seems like a lovely idea - especially, when my adorable, loving husband S sets it up the way he does, complete with candles, music and rose petals (he really is too good to be true, sometimes...).

I haven't felt particularly well today, so I thought it might be a nice way to relax and feel better. He had run off to the store to get everything he was going to need to make us some dinner (I told you he's too good to be true!), and I had the house to myself. I ran the water, put the bath salts in, and arranged a towel for a pillow for my head.

When I tried to settle myself in, I remembered why I don't like baths. I am too tall. There's nothing relaxing about laying half in the water, and half out. Every few minutes, half of me would get cold, so I would have to switch halves. I'd have to have to fold in very unnatural ways to even fit half of me under the water, so I never really got comfortable, even for a minute.

Yet, I sat there for 30 minutes - trying to make myself enjoy it. Why? Because I feel like I "should". I do that to myself a lot. I feel like I "should" enjoy something, and then, make myself feel badly for not liking it. What a waste of time! I spent 30 minutes today, miserable...ON PURPOSE. I chose that. How silly is that?

I am going to try to be more honest with myself about what I enjoy and what I don't. It's not like anyone had a gun to my head telling me that I had to take a bath and like it. I put all that on myself. No one else cares if I ever take a bath again. Obviously, they will care if I don't bathe...but that's not going to be an issue, I promise!

Lesson learned. It was worth 30 minutes of unrelaxing bath to learn that lesson today!