Scared Out of My Wits

I’m not one of those people who is easily scared. Not at all. A horror film will do it, for sure, but mostly, I’m pretty calm and measured. However, since living alone, I’ve noticed an increased tendency to be a little jumpier. I’m still not a scaredy-cat, but I think the heightened awareness of the fact that I am by myself just leads me to be a little more….cautious.

Probably you know, but I have two bathrooms in my house. One up–that I use, and one down–that hardly gets used. Then, when “summer” finally hit, I realized that the lower bathroom was a perfect pool bathroom. I keep extra stuff down there and I come in and hop in the shower, strip off my suit and leave it hanging there. It works great. No mess, no fuss.

With all this heat, I’ve been living at/in the pool for three days. And I wonder how I made it 32 years without a pool, but that’s another story. Yesterday, I had a mini-party, with my parents, my sister and Ario, and Kelly, Mark and the kids. It was so much fun.

When we all wound down, we gathered up the toys and headed home. My parents’ dropped me and the equipment off and they left. I put things away and went inside to take my shower. First, before even getting in, I had to fix the door. It came off the track and it was a disaster. I finally, after swearing, sweating, and steaming, managed to get it back in place. Then I started up the shower and stepped in. I ditched my suit and rinsed it well.

Then I started in on my hair. Now, a while back, Lisa convinced me that shampooing too often is bad for your hair. So now I only wash my hair every couple of days. Which is fine. But now that I swim, daily, I have to wash it, usually two or more times a day, just to keep the chlorine out. I figure in a fight between shampoo and chlorine as to which is worse for my hair, chlorine will win every day of the week.

Okay, so I’m standing under the cool spray and I’m washing my hair for the second time…I have my eyes closed and my head tilted back. Then, suddenly, something wet grabs my arm. Before I can grasp what is happening, something heavy hits me on the head.

I whip my eyes open, shampoo starts running in them and they’re burning. I start to scream as I am frantically pawing at whatever is grabbing at me. I can’t see, but something is wrapped around my arm and something is on my head. I can’t think, I don’t know what the hell is happening and I start crying.

Dramatic, I know.

I’m not much of a crier in these types of situations, but I was in the shower, naked, is it even possible to feel any more vulnerable?

Fortunately, in my panic, I managed to turn around. Between getting my face in the spray and the tears, my eyes rinsed out and I could see; though it was blurred.

I was still hopping around in the shower, like a maniac, when something struck me on the shoulder. Finally, I focused my eyes enough to see what was happening.

I was not, as previously feared, under attack by a deranged monster, but I was instead, under attack by my ceiling.

Yes, oh yes, my popcorn ceiling chose that exact moment to peel away and fall.

Literally, large strips of popcorn ceiling goo, were falling into the shower, all over my body. The first was the largest, it hit me in the arm and it was so gooey that it stuck there. That was what freaked me the most. You can’t imagine the texture (unless you’ve actually felt the texture of damp, moist, popcorn ceiling) and with my eyes closed, it still gives me the chills, just thinking about it.

Then, of course, a chunk striking me on top of the head didn’t really help matters.

I finally got calmed down and scraped the goo off of my body. Then I stepped away from the patch and shampooed my hair, again, to get it all out. I kept my eyes open and stared at that patch the entire time. The floor of my shower is covered with that crap, I’ve yet to clean it up.

I also didn’t think to take a picture of the patch of ceiling where the popcorn ripped away, but my best guess is that, roughly a 12-inch diameter circle is left on the ceiling. That’s a fair sized mess. Made more so my the terror it instilled in me.

My heartbeat has finally returned to average.

And the best part? Just another home repair job, looming on the horizon. Lucky Dad.

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2 thoughts on “Scared Out of My Wits

  1. Holy shit, that is scary! Once Mark came home and I was in the shower and he suddenly spoke in the bathroom and I screamed and fell to the floor in the shower naked and bawling. The only other thing I have against me is that I also can’t see a damn thing in the shower. Yes, no place more vulnerable!! Very scary. So glad it wasn’t that scary monster!!!

  2. I’m sorry that you had a scary shower experience. I can only imagine how creepy that felt! But, now that it’s over, you have to admit it’s kind of funny that you thought the Lochness monster was in your shower ! Love you.

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