On the way to a breakfast meeting this morning, I was thinking a bit about how we can adapt to nearly anything, how the initially painful eventually becomes so commonplace as to not even register with us.

In particular, I was thinking about the shower in my apartment; the building is rather old (built, I believe in the mid-1860’s), and it often seems the water heater was added not long after. During the winter, with hot water split between heating the apartments and heating water from the showerhead, the shower temperature fluctuates wildly, from literally scaldingly hot to so cold I’m often afraid the water may freeze mid-spray. As a result, my roommates and I have all developed elaborate shower dances, learning to leap back against walls when the temperature swings beyond the painfully tolerable.

Whenever we have overnight guests, they invariably complain – how can we possibly stand to use that thing each day? But, in truth, I rarely give it second thought. My little bathtub ballroom has, by now, begun to seem the normal way of life. If nothing else, all the jumping and dodging provides an easy morning workout.