The Existential Woman

Shanna took a shower. She liked the water hot, but not scalding. She liked the water to create a steamy room which was easy to accomplish with the bathroom door closed because the bathroom was so small. When the water felt enjoyable to her hand, she stepped in and closed the shower curtain to stop any spillage. Then she tilted her head back and let the hot pouring water soak her hair and head. She lathered up a bar of soap in her armpits, and giggled about how she had decided not to shave the hair there. It was not a feminist action, because she had shaved her legs just a few days previous in the bathtub. She had decided not to shave her armpit hair for health reasons and for her preference. She liked the feeling of silky legs, but she did not like the feeling of shaven stubbles in the armpit. She preferred the feeling of her soft armpit hair, and she knew that deodorant on shaved areas could create health issues. For all of these reasons, she decided that she would break the habit of shaving her armpit hair. Yet she giggled touching the nice soft hair there, knowing how the world she grew up in thought about women who didn't shave that hair. "I'm a beast!" she laughed and enjoyed the scent of the saop. She let the water rinse off the soap as she held up her arms to the shower head.

Then she ran her fingers down her legs to ascertain the stubble feeling from the last shave. Her legs still felt smooth to the touch, so she would not put the razor to her legs again at this time. She took the soap to her vagina area making sure the outside and inside was clean. Then she felt around that area to see what the hair was doing there. It was still somewhat stubbly, and she felt guilty about having shaved that area. She was hoping it would grow out faster so that wearing panties and other garments would feel more natural. Silently she cursed society and their concepts of sexy or beautiful which had taught her such unnatural methods and created terrible habits in her hygiene routine. "In a few more weeks, my pubic hair will be what it should be," she told herself, "And I won't do that again."

She put her face directly in the water and listened to the peaceful hush of the spray. She finished washing the rest of her body with the soap and a wash cloth, then she turned the water off and looked to the door hanger for her large soft towel. She carefully stepped over the edge of the tub unto a floor towel, then wrapped her wet body with the large soft towel and let it absorb the drops of water that were still on her flesh. Most of the water was dripping from her hair, so she took the towel to her head and let it absorb that wetness. When she felt dry enough, she walked to her dresser and put on some denim shorts and a t-shirt and some clean socks.

Then she sat at the large wooden desk where a laptop computer, an attached typing keyboard, an ashtray and a pack of cigarettes were all set. She grabbed a can of soda out of the nearby refrigerator and set the can next to the ashtray, then she lit one of her cigarettes and went to look at some websites online.

The date was shown on the lower right corner of the computer screen. It was August and it was Saturday. After a few years of accepting her forced retirement, she struggled to know what day it was. If not for the internet or computer reminding her, she really would have no idea. "Why should I care if it's Saturday or Tuesday?" she asked herself holding back a laugh, "I have no reason to care what day it is." Yet she knew that when she let herself forget too much about the day or month, she didn't feel right going out into society. She felt better knowing if it was Monday or Sunday, so that she wouldn't waste her time going to the bank during non-service hours.

She had recently seen an impressive sale advertised on one of the social media websites for some clothing that she always wanted to wear. She surfed to the website and was shocked at how low their prices were during this promotional sale. She saw a few items that were definitely worth buying, but when she attempted to use the $50 Visa gift card, the website informed her that payment method was not acceptable.

"Oh well," she said discarding the order and shrugging feeling disappointed. "I'm not going to ever use my debit card online again. If a Visa Gift Card isn't good enough, then internet shopping isn't good enough."

That was her final decision and just as she had made a final decision not to shave her pubic hair or her underarm hair again, she felt quite confident that she would not make the same mistake with her debit card again.