I know I give the impression I spent all my money on bath stuff, which is largely because I spend all my money on bath stuff, except the money I spend on taxis and food and bills and gin.

But I do, often, use cheap bath stuff.  If I’m not working – and I’m often not working – I barely go near a Lush shop.  I’m quite happy.  It’s bathing that makes me happy, not expensive bath stuff.

Sometimes, simple is better, and a few weeks ago I found a 500ml bottle of Imperial Leather De-Stressing Bath Cream for 85p from my supermarket of choice, and I liked the sound of it even tho I have no idea what sea samphire actually is.  (I just checked.  Apparently it goes brilliantly with fish.)  The ‘marine elements’ the manufacturer advertises can remain a mystery.

For a week now I’ve been sniffing it occasionally and looking forward to trying it.  It does indeed smell quite dense and nautical, but fresh.  And tonight, I just wanted a hot bath as soon as I got home from work, and I didn’t want anything fancy, and I tipped about a third of the bottle in without really thinking about it, because it wasn’t bubbling very much, and  because I  wanted bubbles.  Considering I could buy five bottles of this stuff for the price of one single Enchanter, and nearly nine bottles of it, millimetre for millimetre, instead of the Perlier honey stuff, it’s not like I cared.

I ran the water as hot as I could, dived straight in, did my hippo thing, and pretty much fell asleep immediately.  Baths, they switch my brain off.

In the bath, that intense pirate-singing-a-sea-shanty smell is diluted and loses its punch, but tonight that mattered very little.

I woke up, I washed my hair.  I used the very end of  my Hottie to try and cheer my aching muscles up.  (It didn’t work.)

I am lounging around in the living room, wearing the ridiculous embroidered trousers I bought on holiday, dreading the phone call I put off today but have to make tomorrow, watching some idiotic survival programme on telly.

My skin feels drier than usual, but that’s either paranoia or I’m overthinking it, and I’m about to slather my entire body in Sympathy for the Skin, so it doesn’t matter anyway.


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