Most of my spring break was spent in a bubble bath with three of my best friends. Upon arriving in Montreal, where the drinking age is 19 and the dollar is strong, we were probably most excited to discover that our hotel room included a large Jacuzzi tub. We ended every single one of our nights in the tub—our bellies full of poutine—and I can safely say that the night we discovered bubble bath was the highlight of the trip.
And even though our last night in Canada resulted in three–fourths of our group crying at a window table in a trendy small–plates restaurant, we had the tub to save us. Because there’s nothing quite like pruney, wrinkled feet touching underwater to heal all wounds.
Now I desperately wish I had a big bathtub at school. How much easier would it make the walk of shame after getting rejected at smokes if you knew you were going home to a nice, hot soak? And what about studying—I swear I would do my readings if my tub had jets. Let’s not even get started on what bubble baths could do for our love lives.
Unfortunately, I don’t know a single person in the DPS patrol zone who has a Jacuzzi tub in their Campus Apartment (if you do, you can reach me at firstname.lastname@example.org—I’ll bring my own towel). And since I doubt any of us will be getting one anytime soon, instead we have to make the most out of what we have. We have to soak away our problems in our own Penn way.
Luckily, the upcoming solstice is about to make this a whole lot easier. Penn changes in the spring, and, boy, am I ready. The tables by the compass at lunchtime are my Canadian bathtub. What will be yours?