(today is the birthday of the blog – the celebratory post can be found here – so today’s post will be identical in style to the one I used to start this blog 365 days ago: finding something annoying or nonsensical in my bathroom)
Since last year’s post on this topic, a lot has changed; I’ve moved out of my parent’s house, and into halls of residence at UCL (although they still live 20 minutes away so they can give me things like contact lenses and soy sauce), so my bathroom, and its contents, will be markedly different to those of last year’s post.
However, I think we can all agree that bathrooms, regardless of their temporal places in human history, or their spatial positions within a country or region, can have some annoying features, which is reasonable to expect for a room whose sole function is to be pooped in on a regular basis. And this year, my grievance is with the light string in the second, smaller, bathroom on our corridor (yes we have two, envy us!).
While the larger bathroom includes a shower, and is slightly more spacious than the Cylons’ prison cells on New Caprica, the smaller bathroom has no such luxuries, boasting a sink, toilet, weird bucket of slop with a mop poking out of it, and a light string that is positioned directly over the door, so that whenever the door is opened, the light string slaps you in the face and gets tangled up in the handle, making the door impossible to close without the dexterity of these losers.
What irks me the most about this state of affairs, however, is the pointlessness of it all; there’s quite a lot of ceiling that could be used for this, but instead the builders / designers / sadists-for-hire decided to place it in the one place that’s both borderline inaccessible – as the string falls into one’s face as soon as the door is opened – but still manages to be as annoying as a swarm of Doctor Who fans who just heard that you dared to not ship Clara and the Eleventh Doctor (that ship is totally overrated btw).
Also, there are no easy fixes for this problem; last year I lamented a single bathroom product, so avoiding the root of my irritation was easy, and the damn soap was thrown away a few days alter once it had been used up. You can’t really ‘use up’ a light switch though, and the fact that I’m not only paying rent for this place (and so don’t technically own it) but am sharing it with other people who haven’t been vocal with their dissatisfaction (if indeed there is any) means I can’t just walk in, tear the damn thing out and start lighting candles in the room to illuminate my sh*t-taking.
My solution has been a devastating compromise – to use the other, larger, bathroom, with its sensibly-placed light, a whole three feet down the corridor, negligibly further away from my room than the smaller bathroom. Truly this is the sort of thing you really shouldn’t be putting up with when you’re paying nine grand a year to study, no?
Well apparently minor logistical complaints aren’t covered by the Student Loans Company. Cameron’s Britain, ladies and gentlemen.