2000-03-14

Mr. Bubble

I'm obsessed with bath products.

I have rows upon rows of dusty bottles in my bathroom, ranging from stinky sea-kelp body scrub to apple-scented soothing bath salts. Whenever I'm stressed out about something, my knee-jerk response is to go out and buy bath products. My mental well-being is gauged entirely by the number of said products I have in my bathroom at any given time.

Usually, I go for the expensive, eco-friendly stuff, the kind that promises an end to my existential crisis via soothing aromatherapeutic blends. "Turns your tub into a relaxing Euro spa!" one bottle promises, while another claims that it will "transport" me...somewhere...I have no idea where. I sit in the bathtub with my True Story magazines until I'm pruned and satiated with the misery of others. Then I feel better. Until I start thinking again.

At any rate, I made a promise to myself in recent weeks that I would not buy another bath product until I was finished with every last bottle in my bathroom. This is a hard thing for me, since I am perpetually in Panic Mode and need to buy a bottle of Orchard Mist something-or-other if I am ever to snap out of it.

I mean, it's better than having a $250 a day smack habit, right?

So I was down to the last dregs of my last bottle of Batherapy when I realized that the following morning, I could freak out over a lost invoice and hie my ass to the CVS for a new bottle.

I was so happy, I almost calmed down.

Now, I don't know if being away from the bath products aisle had altered my way of thinking somehow, but instead of reaching for my usual prettily-decorated jar of relaxation, I went for the bright pink voluptuous bottle of Mr. Bubble.

I giddily filled the tub and the bathroom was filled with that bubble-gum smell that I remembered from childhood.

Jesus H., wasn't I just the happiest clam?

And only $1.99 for such happiness!

Who needs therapy?

lisamcc at 08:47:10

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