Tag Archives: showering

Linda and the Uwes

With work dwindling and an ever-sketchier internet connection, I’ve had to resort to new ways of keeping myself entertained. None of these, obviously, involve cleaning my flat – or learning to bake or crochet.

My initial attempts to be at my laptop by 10 a.m. every morning have largely fallen by the wayside – mainly because there’s no need for me to be at my laptop by 10 a.m. every morning. Being up at 10 just leaves me with around 10 hours to fill until I can start drinking wine with a relatively clear conscience. Showering and getting dressed can kill half an hour but, some days, that’s also a bit effortful and napping is still, and always will be, a viable alternative.

So, a couple of days ago, I was at my desk, ostensibly working on something but really marvelling out the window at the German kids in my building careening around the courtyard on their various wheeled German devices. Suddenly, I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye. Since the only moving thing inside my flat at the moment should be me, this attracted my full attention. A spider. Urgh.

However, while I’m not the greatest fan of spiders, I decided that this one could stay a while and keep me company.

Me: I shall name you Uwe.

Uwe: …

Me: No, Uwe, the walls and corners are your territory. The ceilings and floors are off limits. I do not want to find you crawling up my leg or dropping onto my hair from a height.

Uwe: … (proceeds to abseil down the wall and onto the floor)

Me: Uwe! Jesus! What did I just say?

Uwe: … (probably grinning in a spidery kind of way)

Deciding Uwe must be a bit hard of hearing, I proceeded to carry on with whatever I was doing with my legs tucked under me, always keeping a careful eye on Uwe’s whereabouts under the desk. Up my little filing cabinet, back down again, up the side of the printer, back down again. A brave but unwise attempt to teeter towards my office chair. Me banging on the floor with a shoe to try to persuade him back in the opposite direction. Off he went – up the side of the printer again and this time into the paper feed.

Me: Uwe! NEIN! I need to use that later and I do not need you getting mashed in the inner workings of my printer right now!

Uwe: …

As pets go, house spiders are really not the best company.

Why You No Love Me?: 6X9 Funny Spider Journal: Amazon.de: Songbird ...
Image taken from amazon.de

Anyway, he eventually toddled off behind the curtains and that was the last I saw of him for a while. Later, I needed to use the loo so I went upstairs to the bathroom. Huh, what was that small dark shape on the ceiling of my shower? Uwe? Is that you?

Upon closer (but not too close) inspection, I decided it wasn’t Uwe – this spider was a bit smaller with shorter legs.

Me: Hey! Uwe Junior! How’s it hanging?

Uwe Jr.: …

Me: I see you are a spider of few words, just like your father.

Uwe Jr.: …

Me: Right, I’ll leave you be. You’re fine up there for the moment but I want you out of that shower by the morning… erm, OK, mid- to late-afternoon. Got it??

Uwe Jr.: …

Me: Good.

I went back downstairs where Uwe Senior kept me entertained for the rest of the night by playing peekaboo from behind my bookshelves.

The next day (I’d like to say it was morning but that would be a downright lie), it was shower time. Uwe Jr. had clearly broken his end of the deal. There he was, nestled up in the corner above my shower.

Me: Last chance, Uwe Jr. I’m turning on the shower.

Uwe Jr.: …

Maybe he was asleep. If he stayed where he was, I could be in and out before he woke up. I got undressed and turned on the water.

Uwe Jr.: ARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

He proceeded to wobble unsteadily across the ceiling to directly over where my head would be.

Me: NEIN, Uwe Jr.! That’s exactly where I DON’T want you to be! Get back in your corner!

Uwe Jr., however, didn’t pay me any heed and continued his precarious acrobatic show. I decided that, in the face of this show of blatant disrespect, my best course of action would be to launch a bottle of conditioner in his general direction. Just close enough to startle him back into his corner or, at least, to somewhere I could reach him and get him out of there. My first throw missed by a mile. Verdammt. Still, it’s kind of awkward to shot-put a bottle of conditioner while hanging naked and dripping, half-in and half-out of a shower. I forgave myself for the terrible girlie throw and tried again.

Again, nothing for Uwe Jr. to be remotely concerned about. However, the bottle was now descending at speed towards my face. I yanked my head out of there, hitting my temple off the metal frame with a resounding thud. It would actually have hurt less if the bottle had hit me in the face rather than my face hitting the shower.

Me: Ow, ow, owwww! God damn it, Uwe Jr.! I’ve had it! I’m coming in!

Uwe Jr. appeared unperturbed, so I stepped cautiously into the shower and proceeded to wash myself with one eye constantly on the ceiling. Let me tell you, washing your lower legs and feet with your face pointing upwards is better than any yoga class. Just as I was ready to get out, Uwe Jr. made his way to the top of the glass door, waving at me from up there with one spindly leg. Again, the last place I wanted him to be. I swear he was doing this on purpose. I slowly slid the door open but not before I registered a little dark shape falling towards the floor. God damn it, where was he now?

Me: Uwe Jr., I know you’re down there – show yourself.

Uwe Jr.: …

So, I waited, dripping, until he revealed himself. Ah ha! There you are, you little bugger! I gingerly stepped over him and onto the mat. Uwe Jr. made a beeline towards my wet feet but some quick-witted naked tap dancing on my part scared him under the curtain.

It’s hard to say who the winner here is. We both got some exercise but probably both ended up mildly concussed. Where the Uwes are now beats me – I haven’t seen either of them since. Perhaps Uwe Jr. shared his horror story of a naked jiggling woman and they’ve decided to keep a low profile for now.

Me: Is that what you’re doing, Uwes??

Uwes: …

Hi-diddle-dee-dee, a hermit’s life for me

As Corona and the madness that goes with it spreads, I have decided to take myself out of circulation for a couple of weeks. This is for two excellent reasons:

  1. I do not want to get the Corona virus.
  2. I do not want to have to fight with crazy people over toilet paper. (I wonder how long these people will be sitting in their toilet paper fortresses before they realise they’ve forgotten to buy food and water…)

Happiness is…

However, it turns out that the hermit’s life actually suits me down to the ground so, in case anyone else is struggling with their period of isolation (whether self-imposed or not), I thought I would share some of my positive experiences.

  • Aside from the obvious benefits of not having to brush my hair or wear any make-up (as evidenced in the photo), choosing what to wear for the day has now been boiled down to two options – do I stay in my pajamas or do I put on my tracksuit? In fact, when all of this blows over, I’m not sure I’ll be able to readjust to wearing shoes again.

Happy feet

  • This is probably more one for the ladies (but who’s to judge) – it’s time to let the girls out! Yes, if you’re only wearing a pajama or tracksuit top, putting on a bra seems kind of pointless so feel free to let your boobies breathe.
  • Showering is optional – as is the need to pluck or shave anything. When you’re home alone with nobody else to smell you or cut their hands on your leg hair, you can let your hygiene standards droop as low as your titties. For online meetings and appointments, you only really have to make half an effort – Profi on the top, party on the bottom.
  • Thanks to Corona, or Covid-19 to give it its gangsta name, I’m learning new vocabulary, both in German and English. Hamsterkäufe is used to describe panic buying in German and hamstern is also a verb, meaning to hoard. (Don’t you just love this language?) And, thanks to the beautiful Trevor Noah for coining “pandumbic”. Unfortunately, I fear that the pandumbic will continue long after the pandemic has shuffled off its mortal coil.
  • Speaking of the fight against stupidity, if you only have yourself to talk to, you might find that your conversations have actually got more scintillating than when you interacted with the wider world. “What’s that, me?” “Ha ha ha, God, I’m hilarious…”
  • Consider joining an online gym. There’s nothing like a German shouting at you to “GIB GAS!!!” to increase your motivation levels. I’ve been working out every day (for at least 2 days now) – in the dark, obviously, so my neighbours can’t see me huffing around my living room, red-faced and sweaty, with boobs a-flopping. (This is the one time the no-bra thing isn’t a great idea.)  The idea is that I will emerge like a beautiful butterfly in a few weeks time – after I’ve showered, plucked and shaved, of course. The other advantage is that my exercise mat makes a rather pleasing farty noise when my back hits it at just the right angle and speed. Who says exercise can’t be fun?
  • And finally, think of all the money and time you’re saving. No lengthy commutes, no going to bars or clubs, no going anywhere really. Instead of sitting in a noisy, overcrowded pub, shouting at your friends over overpriced drinks, you can get quietly smashed in the comfort of your own home for a fraction of the price. In fact, it might even be recommended as who knows if Covid-19 can survive in a person who’s more alcohol than human? Might be worth an experiment.

Anyway, those are my thoughts for now. How are you coping? Personally, I’m off to sit on my sofa with a glass of wine, waiting for the day when Corona is just a crap beer again. I raise a virtual glass to you all and hope that you stay happy and healthy.

And please, don’t beat anyone up over toilet roll. Beat them with toilet roll – the world will be like one big Corona pillow fight. Wonderful.

 

 

 

 

 

Pee-Pal

One night, Manfredas and I were sitting in the local bar. (I must stop starting posts like this…) Anyway, after a while, Ulf showed up and the three of us started chatting.

Me: (Something absolutely hilarious and witty)

Manfredas: I need to pee.

Ulf: Oh, so do I. You go first.

Manfredas: No, you go first.

Ulf: No, you. 

Manfredas: No, you.

Me: For the love of all that’s holy – why don’t you just go together??

Manfredas & Ulf: NEIN!

Me: Why not? 

Ulf: Because we know each other. 

Me: But that’s just stupid. So, what, just because you know each other’s names, you can never go to the toilet together? 

Manfredas & Ulf: JA! 

Ulf: It might be OK for women to go to the bathroom together but not for men.

Me: I never go to the toilet with other women but whatever. So, if you don’t know the other guy’s name, it’s OK? 

Manfredas: Exactly. You know my brother-in-law, Lamprecht?

Me: Yes…

Manfredas: Well, we could never, EVER, go to the toilet together. 

Me: And your dad?

Manfredas: NIEMALS! 

Me: But I just don’t get it. I mean, you shower with your hockey or football team and everyone has their dangly bits on display.

Manfredas: Totally different. 

Me: Erm… Because there’s nothing coming out of the willies at the time? Is that the rule?

Manfredas: (looking like he wants the earth to open up and swallow him)

Me: So, every guy in this bar is just looking at who’s going into the toilet so that they don’t accidentally end up in there with someone whose name they know? 

Ulf: Pretty much. Crap, Werner has just gone in. We’ll both have to wait. 

Me: Germans…