I had to get an air mattress.

Waking up on a carpeted slab of concrete is an incredible method for understanding the delicate nature of the human skeleton. The evolution of man must have been most advanced not by the fashioning of instruments and fire, but figuring out how to skin fluffy things to make bedding. How did these early humanoids survive, sleeping on the bare ground like that?

Day eight was to be one of grumpiness and joint discomfort. Knowing this, I managed my work day accordingly, leaving the office early for a quick meeting in the South Bay, then stopping in Target for an air mattress. I made quick work of it. The best $29 I’d ever spent–provided the thing didn’t pop. I couldn’t wait to use the thing.

I returned to the office at 5:30, making sure my coworkers had left for the day. They had. Earlier in the day, I had begun to research trial gym memberships in the area, locating first a local YMCA that I thought would be perfect for a temporary cleaning spot. But now, lazy and hazy, having returned to my resting spot for the evening, I couldn’t imagine starting my gym journeys now. Showering would have to wait another day.

It hardly mattered. The emphasis our culture places on daily showers is far from universal. Studies show that American water consumption per capita–surprise!–greatly outweighs that of other countries. Save for Canada, in many respects our 51st state*, according to the World Commission for Water in the 21st Century, Americans use 35% more water per person than the next highest consumer of water–Italy. Lotsa hands-washing from tossing pizza dough.**

Here’s a chart for you chart lovers out there (Note: not graphophiles, as that term denotes a love of writing, not graphs…):

What does this all mean?

The answer is simple. I can now excuse my laziness on an effort to save our Earth’s most valuable, dwindling resource: water.

With that settled, I found myself needing to unwind. I cleaned up my necessary parts in the bathroom sink, and searched through my bags for a comfortable set of clothes for the night. I still had no idea where anything was. There were literally five bags under my desk, each stacked carefully on top of the other to conserve as much space as possible. Moving each bag was a labor of patience, as too hearty a pull could unbalance the desk, knocking off key office supplies into unreachable positions, or tipping the wastepaper basket onto the floor. Any given bag was intended to be packed with a different set of garments, but instead ended up being wadded with a mash of clothing stowed away out of convenience. I almost preferred to wear the same clothes over and over again, just to avoid the hassle.

Later that evening, on a blanket in the back hallway, surrounded by a stale lack of life, executing yoga stretches in my underwear, it occurred to me that something terribly unusual had happened with my life. I wasn’t sure if it was awful or amazing yet, but it was remarkable. And completely unexpected.

It was during this minor depth of thought when Vera messaged me. And soon after, Linda called. Both just wanting to chat. I wondered if they knew I hadn’t showered in three days, soon to go on four.

I guess it didn’t matter. They both knew my situation. And neither appeared to mind. It seemed as if this whole experiment was helping me find the right kind of women after all.

As the old saying goes, just because a man is on the run does not mean he cannot be pursued.

– TOH

*Cue hate mail!

**Hey, some of my best friends are Italian. I can say whatever I want about the land of World Cup trophies and lasagna, capisce?