Throwing salt

I have rituals either in things that I need to do each day or in the order that I do the mundane things that everyone typically does. For example, I have to have a bath before going to bed every night. This may seem like a fairly common occurrence, but I tend to take it to an obsessive level. On any given evening, I can be found unwinding after a brutal (or not so) day in a warm bubble bath. I end 99.9% of my days in this manner. Some nights I add a glass of wine, others see candlelight but always the bubbles and the warm bath. It turns into a quirk when you factor in how ingrained this is for me. If I get off work at midnight, there’s a bubble bath by 12:30. Late night at a concert, bubble bath once home to wash away the cigarette smoke. Falling on my ass drunk, bath when I get home. That’s right. Even on the nights I have been falling down drunk and barely able to remember my name, I’ve managed to pour myself into a bath before bed. A few years ago at a staff retreat I probably came close to drowning myself. After imbibing in much alcohol and dancing, earning myself the nickname whirling dervish, I couldn’t even make it back to my cabin on my own*. That said, the next thing I remember about that night is sitting in the middle of the big Jacuzzi tub in my cabin literally frolicking in the water like a 2 year old, still drunk off my ass. Funny how some habits just stick.


*Upon exiting the party cabin, I promptly fell off the front porch and smacked my head on the ground.