My shower is my happy place.
It's one of the few places on the planet where no one can bother me, it's where I get my best thinking done, and it's just really warm and cozy in there.
But I decided to forgo it for a week in the name of science, because that is just the kind of brave, selfless person that I am.
Last year, a senior editor at The Atlantic, James Hamblin, decided to give up showering based on the theory that regular washing disrupts the natural ecosystem of our skin.
Allegedly, after a few months of not showering, the body's equilibrium is able to rebalance itself, and your body doesn't smell like B.O., but just like a body.
Unfortunately (or maybe, fortunately), my experiment only lasted a week, so I never really got to the balanced-equilibrium phase. I merely lingered in the gross, oily mess phase for a few days and counted the seconds until I was allowed to bathe again.
Now I will say, I did wash certain areas of my body (you know the areas I'm talking about), because that's just straight up nasty to let go for a week. But I didn't wash the rest of my body or hair (aside from rinsing off) for a whole work week, much to the dismay of my coworkers.
The first couple of days were fine, as I, as well as any other sane person, have obviously gone that long without showering in the past.
But before long, I felt gross. Very, very gross.
I'm a person that hates sweating. And despite conducting this experiment in New York City in January, I still managed to sweat a decent bit during the week, due to things like unnaturally warm subway cars and lugging my laundry bag up my fourth floor walk up.
By Friday, my hair was 90 percent dry shampoo and my mood was 75 percent angry.
But I will tell you, once I finally did shower, boy what a shower it was. My hair has never had so much shine and volume in my entire life, and I felt revived in a way that I previously thought was reserved for spiritual voyages in the Costa Rican rainforest.
Okay, so maybe I would have to stick to the experiment for a while longer before I no longer felt like a filthy swamp monster, but honestly, I don't have it in me.
Not only do I render myself incapable of getting through the ultra-nasty stage of giving up showering, but I truly just enjoy a good shower.
A few dozen more hours in there, and I bet I can come up with a solution to this whole equilibrium situation—one that doesn't involve my coworkers remaining outside a 10 foot radius of me at all times.