Two years ago, I went into the MTC. So crazy- I can't believe all of the crazy experiences I had and life-changing people I met in that time. I was talking with Cynthia, my roommate and former companion, about how these past two years have probably been the most impactful and ridiculous of our lives. She and I started and finished our missions together, and were roommates immediately after. It's neat to have someone that's been on the same roller coaster the whole time, and be besties at that.
Here's a little before and after for you guys- My first day in Hawaii
Um, a few days ago
And these are my favorite pictures of Cynthia and I on the mission
My mornings start like most. I wake up, fairly groggy, and look forward to a warm shower to start my day and wake me up. I set the temperature to what I feel is appropriate, and I step in. Oh it's so nice- the water is so warm, I'm washing my hair, and then... AAAHHHHH!!!! Water at what must be boiling temperature comes out and I have to jump aside to avoid being scalded, or at least avoid being scalded any further. After its blast of wrath, the shower returns to normal temperature and I rinse my hair. I start washing my face, and suddenly ice water delivers its shock to my skin. I can't help but gasp my first words of the day- usually a combination of curses, pleading, and sometimes, let's just be honest, swear words. I violently shove the shower head to the side to be out of the way of its cruelty and stand, gasping and shivering, until it decides to return to the temperature I've humbly requested.
You would think there would be some sort of pattern, or at least cause and effect, for the shower's extremity. False. No one in the apartment, out of an attempt to be considerate, uses water while someone is showering. So either this shower is on the fritz, or it freaks any time someone in the whole of Provo uses water. I've decided this is the shower's way of proving its power. It is simply reminding us that IT decides what the temperature is, not us. Go ahead, use the temperature knob. It's useless- you will still be burned and frozen at least one time each, respectively, when you shower. Every time it does an extreme temperature switch, I want to say, "Ok! OKAY! I submit!! You are the Water God! The shower giveth, and the shower taketh away. I understand!"
Perhaps I should start presenting it with burnt offerings. (Maybe then it will spare my skin.) I'll put ice there too.
Either way there is no way I'm living here next year.