While Cleaning Out My Files…

I came across some instructions that may be of use to you, sometime, like they were for me:

HOW TO GET OUT OF THE BATH TUB WHEN YOU’RE OLD

  1. Beginning on your bottom, use the side of the bath to pull yourself onto your side, then onto your hands and knees.
  2. Holding onto both sides of the bath, push yourself up onto your knees only.
  3. Hold onto the side of the bath, closest to the exit, lift your knees off the bath floor, so that you are balancing on your feet.
  4. Continue holding onto the side of the bath, and bring one leg over the side of the bath.
  5. When you are safely standing on that leg, continue holding onto the side of the bath, bring the other leg over the side of the bath so that both legs are outside of the bath.
  6. When you are safely standing on both feet, let go of the side of the bath.
  7. Towel dry.

CAUTION:

  1. Never do what I once did,  stand sideways in the tub with your back against the wall and slowly slide down the wall.  I was trapped for two hours, until I figured which way my various limbs worked.

About Nan Mykel

I used to think I would be a child prodigy, but then I got old. Formerly I had fantasies of rubbing elbows with cultural and academic leaders but that did not come to pass because I did not become a cultural or academic leader or any other kind of leader, for that matter. I am not even an "Alpha Dog," a term learned from a friend who had to become "Alpha Dog" in order to influence her own pet. (When gazes lock, she never looks away.) For years I expected to become a published author, but in passing I could not avoid the fact that I had little to contribute to the world's bulging dumpsters. I'm embarrassed to report that I also considered my primary process artistic productions powerful, rather than mildly neurotic. Which is not to say that I disrespect myself, only that I am beginning to doubt my potential for making a mark on the world. If I focus on strict self discipline I may be able to keep my garbage removed on a weekly basis, to keep the kitty box changed, the clothes cleaned, the dog watered, fed and walked, but that just catches me up to the starting mark again. When writing I physically grapple with words, wrestling them from their indifference into attempted chunks of awareness. I sit heavily on my chair; I breathe in artificially cooled air; my ear drums note the tap tap of the keyboard and the steady uninterrupted sound of the air conditioner, What is that sound? The roar of the ocean from 30 yards away...Inside, my thoughts are are balls in an electronic game machine, bouncing hither and yon from lever to lever. I am a little grim and intent until I recall a dream related by a black man in the prison where I once worked. He said that when he was a small boy, back home, he dreamed he was standing on his front porch pissing, and that he suddenly found himself pissing stars...
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1 Response to While Cleaning Out My Files…

  1. lynn__ says:

    This made me smile…but I will not laugh because I made need instructions someday!

    Liked by 1 person

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