The cold water that pours out first from the shower head.
Honestly, I do hate that with a good many fibers of my body. Quite literally.
I reckon that this cold water sneaking down on you is single-handedly responsible for people hating The Morning. Even when I'm in a good mood when I get up (and yes, that happens, shut up), the couple of seconds it takes for the pouring water to be warm are enough to make me extremely grumpy in the sub-polar temperatures we've been experiencing lately in the wee hours. And don't. Tell me it's not that cold. Just don't.
And I know the simple way would be to hold the shower head down for the first couple of seconds. But let's face it, I'm barely awake enough to remember my own name when I step into the shower, I doubt I'd think of unhooking the thing and holding it away from me.
Then again, maybe subconsciously I love the thermal shock.
I've already thought of a solution, that would potentially solve a few of my problems. I could go out in the buff and run around the block a couple of times before my shower, all the while chanting to the moon and the stars: that would probably make the pouring water seem boiling hot by comparison; the chanting might work towards either bringing about that seasonal miracle I've been ranting on for ever or making my upstairs neighbours move out - which might also count as a miracle, let's not be fussy; or I might catch pneumonia and die, and well, that'd pretty much solve all of it, wouldn't it?
Yes, it's Friday and I'm a drama queen.