This morning, I noticed that my right shoulder was pretty sore. Figuring it was due to some errant check from a hockey game the night before, I wrote it off until I went into the bathroom and saw the gleaming tile and mirror-like fixtures of the tub. Last night, already relatively gross from the game, I got to work scrubbing and trying to avoid the occasional blasts of scalding hot water that I employed to rinse the grout I’d just been over. It was hardly enviable work, but there was something cathartic about it beyond even the fact that I knew my bathroom was pretty filthy and really needed the cleaning. Perhaps it was the sunny, warmer weather that’s been rolling through the city, but it seemed that with each tile scoured, winter’s hold was loosened ever so slightly by an expiating combination of bleach, a scrub brush, and elbow grease.
Photo courtesy of IgoUgo member ladyanne47