April showers. Except it's June.

I've been shopping for a flat online today. Don't worry, I wouldn't actually buy one online. When it finally arrives it's never the same colour as in the photo, and if it doesn't fit the postage to return it is outrageous. Anyway, I found one that looked really rather nice, and was flicking through the photos when I was distracted by the picture of the bathroom. Lovely bathroom. Looked brand new, shiny, clean and possessed of all necessary furniture. Everything one could possibly desire from the room in which one keeps one's bath. But still, my first thought on seeing it was "I'd have to buy a shower screen". And why? Because it had a shower curtain, and I effing hate shower curtains. Seriously. They are the work of the devil. For me, showers serve two main purposes. Either I'm in a hurry and looking for maximum cleaning efficiency and speed, in which case the last thing I want is to spend half my potential washing time peeling off the chilly, clammy sheet of plastic which is drawn by some kind of magnetic force to repeatedly adhere itself to my skin, or I wish to relax and luxuriate under the hot water, in which case the last thing I want is to spend half my potential washing time peeling off the chilly, clammy sheet of plastic which is drawn by some kind of magnetic force to repeatedly adhere itself to my skin. As tactile sensations go, damp and clingy like a cuddle from a horny turbot is not one of my favourites. Give me a nice piece of frosted glass any day.