Hot Java – an old skool bath bomb which came out in limited edition retro product range Lush Kitchen a few months ago – gets a rough press from most Lush bloggers, largely because most Lush bloggers are used to vomiting unicorns these days. In the old days, the very concept of a bath bomb was exciting, the very idea that you could chuck a ball of bicarb in the bath and turn the water a funny colour, and make it smell nice. So, Hot Java is an old style bath bomb: it fizzes away super quickly, it does not release mythical creatures, but it turns the water a lovely burnt orange colour, and it smells of ginger and spices.
Trust me, if you’ve got a fatigue-inducing impairment which also causes chronic pain and your body hates you, it’s amazing. So warming. Like getting a massive hug from a grizzly bear, rather than being mauled by one, for once.
Some people hate it because it leaves cinnamon bark in the water. My tip about that is: if you don’t like cinnamon bark in the water, don’t use a bath bomb which contains cinnamon bark.
It has been an epic day, in which my inner Frida Kahlo emerged and got some disability shit sorted. But being that awesome is exhausting, especially when you are actually disabled. That is the thing about getting disability shit sorted. It would be easier if you weren’t disabled.
Then again, lots of things would be easier if I weren’t disabled, and maybe baths wouldn’t be so amazing, or I wouldn’t appreciate a beautiful bath bomb like Hot Java quite as much as I do.
Oh, I also broke a rule of using one massage bar before breaking open another, and decided Frida Kahlo would want me to use my first Mange Too bar. My review is: it smells of cake, it has honey in it, I loved pressing the rough side against my sore muscles, and I probably overdid it because I felt very oily afterward. It’s sinking in now, and the Mange Too smell has mixed really well with the Hot Java smell on my skin.
Frida Kahlo wouldn’t care about that, she would just be kicking arse, and cheering on the British cycling gold medalists, but I am not, in fact, Frida Kahlo. I am just a very tired cripple.