Welcome to the new old normal

The new old normal

I took a shower this morning, a long, hot, luxurious shower. I know that this sounds mundane (I do shower daily), but I assure you, it was not. I live in an apartment  37 stairs above the shared miklat shelter. Since February 28, showering was like playing Russian roulette. Would I be able to shower and wash my hair before having to run downstairs to the miklat? With every non- interrupted shower, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Last night, I slept in my real pajamas- not the makeshift sleep garments that would allow me to see my neighbors and miklat sharers at three in the morning. (As though they were awake enough to care). And last night, I retrieved my loved slippers- the ones with the open back that I have not worn in a month and a half. Running down two flights of stairs in them was nothing but a disaster (or at least a fall) waiting to happen.

Ah, the things (at least the superficial ones) I missed while the Iranians were sending love parcels to my part of the country (actually, they did not discriminate and sent these surprise packages to the whole country whenever the mood struck them). It is good to return to some level of normalcy.

Oh, and by the way, I took my phone into the shower room (to hear a siren or alert), and I am still carrying it with me from room to room at all times- just in case! Welcome to the new normal.