Friday, December 15, 2006

Of seating

I am very fond of my bathroom. Primarily because it has a window that faces north, and has a sill on which I can sit quite comfortably, and look out. In fact, that's one of the things that I like doing if it's a particularly nice night outside—take a book and sit and read there, and look out onto the garden outside whenever the mood suits me. And oh, the window has a pretty blue curtain, too.
These days, the window sill is too cold for me to sit quite comfortably. But whenever I am say taking a call after eleven at night, I still gravitate towards that window, and like looking out. Last night, when The Dis-Balanced Boy (heh) called, that was precisely what I was doing. But after a while, I got tired of standing, and decided to sit down. One cannot generally sit on the pot in this particular bathroom for purposes other than strictly ablutionary because it is an Indian style one, and things might get a little unsettling. And I couldn't spot my trusty stool either. So I did the next best thing that I could—I sat down on a bucket. Not an upturned bucket, but a one that stood the right way up in the manner that Higher Beings have always destined for buckets. This isn't a particularly extraordinary thing. No really—I have done this before; my little blue bucket is just the right size and height to make a reasonably comfortable seat. But I must have lost a couple of inches off my butt between the last time I had performed the said operation and last night, because within about a minute or so, I kind of slipped a little into the bucket. And got stuck. Let me tell you, it is not a very pleasant thing to happen, and is quite uncomfortable, in fact. I couldn't have prevented it from happening either, because I wasn't really expecting it. It was with some difficulty and a teensy little bit of embarrassment that I finally managed to extricate myself from the bucket. It looked kind of distorted after I got up. Poor bucket. And my poor pained butt.

And oh, I pulled an all-nighter again. Fatigued doesn't even begin to describe how I feel.

Countdown: Nine hours and eleven minutes to freedom.