You know what I’m talking about? Those little pieces of flotsam and jetsam that end up in your bath water, your club soda, whatever. You don’t really ever know what they are; they could be random flakes from your own scalp, bits of the bartender’s lunch fallen from his gums, something that came out of your date’s beard…whatever. I hate them. If I see floaties in my bathwater, I grab the cup my kid uses to rinse out her hair when she takes a bath and I scoop them all out before I even get in the water. I know, it’s anal, but it’s just one of my quirks.
And the thing is, I’m completely aware of the fact that there are millions, if not billions, of other things in the water that I can’t see that are probably worse for me than the floaties. Tons of different germs and pollution are just waiting to enter my crevices, which sounds really invasive because, well, it is!