I spend a lot of time alone. It’s not for everybody, but it works for me. Tonight in the shower I didn’t want to get out. It’s been ridiculously cold in Charlotte the past three days. It always feels like December is the coldest month. I know that statistically it’s not, but it always sure feels that way. I think it has to do with the move out of warmth and into cold. It never feels as cold in February as it does in December, to me. Right now there’s not light at the end of the tunnel. It’s still technically fall. Anyway, I’m in the shower enjoying my privilege as an energy-inefficient American by taking a scalding hot shower. I’m not going to lie, it felt good. It wasn’t long enough though – I do have a conscience for the environment. But while I was in there, I thought about how nice it would be to actually have a sauna. Sure, I could go to a sauna where other people go, but that’s a little weird to me. I like to sweat, but I have this thing about privacy. I’ve been going to hot yoga on and off for about a year and there’s sweating there, but because of (insert convincing excuse), I don’t go enough. No, I want a sauna. A private sauna. For days like this.
Not that there’s anything wrong with a sauna that has other people. It’s just not for me. I wouldn’t even know what to wear. Do they wear towels in there? Only? Are they nude? Yeah, that’s comfortable. The last thing I want to see is some fat naked guy. Or worse, one of those guys from the locker room who want to have a conversation with you while their Johnson is flapping all over the place. I can live without that imagery. And in a sauna, you’re supposed to relax. Clear your mind. Meditate. Except, I’m definitely not meditating with a stranger’s stench rising up from their open pours and wafting around the room.
I want a private sauna. And a pool for afterward. And for it to be February.
Photo courtesy of Hotel Sonnhof