I was making a sandwich in the dark at 6.45 a.m. and wondering if I could get away with not showering. Maybe take a towel to work and monitor the situation through regular discreet whiffing. Of myself and of the nearest other. Trouble is our bathroom's plagued, at home, by thin slugs and draughts and every time you open the door you wonder how far things might've gone, this time, and could we change things by repenting or is it just a matter of waiting. Because the broodings and the slayings haven't worked. And please no repenting because repenting hasn't so far showed itself to be worth the effort. I'm reading a fine-smelling Tolstoy about it and it just goes on forever and he can't even taste his food eventually. Improvement is a slippery slope.