The Holiday.
The shear annularity of the dekadentic week has set my body into a slowly soothing  dream.
The tar seeps deeper and deeper into my veins,
since my body already knows what it has to endure from tomorrow.

Though, my cynical self has provided the necessary backup
that allows me to let the endorfins have their way.

In Singapore we (me, PB, the PBwife and kid) crashed in The Doctor’s 2,5 room apartment. The layout of apartment was kinda funny because all the rooms inclucing the kitchen was enveloping the bathroom.

When we stayed in Singapore The Dr and the Doctoress worked in the days. This meant they had to prepare for work in the mornings when we
wanted our morning sleep.
I slept in a closet appendiced the kitchen and awoke every morning as their preparations began. As always the need for using the bathroom when you wake up in the morning is big,
it was like this in Singapore too.
Their preparations naturally meant showers.
The Doctoress was a godess at showering I think she showered for like
two hours in the morning. And I lay there close to the bathroom,
with a bladder the size of a blimp.
Waiting for my turn in the bathroom to empty it.
Of course the pouring of water for two hours didn’t help. It hurt. When she stopped showering she stayed in the bathroom for like ten minutes.
Then the door opened, and closed as quickly, and the shower started.
The Dr had began showering. For a loooong time as well.

Every morning the same ritual in the apartment.

It hurt! But I got some relieve. PB told me  on the plane home the same story applied to him.