So I don’t really know when I last cleaned the shower. Like, really cleaned it. I think I wiped it down once… maybe in March? Or maybe I just rinsed some hair off the wall and called it a day. Anyway, I was standing in there the other morning, shampoo in my eyes, and I noticed this kind of—film? On the floor? And I was like, huh. That can’t be good.
But I didn’t do anything about it. Not right then, anyway. I just finished showering and made a mental note to Google “how bad is it to never clean your tub.” Spoiler: it’s bad.
Showers: Dirtier Than I Wanted to Know
So yeah, apparently showers aren’t magically clean just because they look clean. Which I sort of knew, in the way you know you should floss but don’t. I mean, you go in there to get clean. But all the dirt and skin cells and… body stuff—it goes somewhere. And mostly, it just stays there. Stuck to the sides.
Warm, wet, enclosed = germ summer camp.
Oh Right, the Shower Curtain Is… Alive?
Let me tell you about the shower curtain. I had one of those cheap plastic liners you buy thinking, “this’ll last forever.” But it was starting to feel… damp? Like even when it dried, it didn’t feel dry. I tried to ignore it, until I touched the bottom corner one day and it was slimy. No one warns you about slimy plastic. That should be a bigger thing.
Apparently (and I wish I didn’t know this), bacteria love that moist vinyl. Like, a lot. Some of them move in after a week. A week. I had not washed mine in… I don’t even want to say. It’s in the landfill now. I bought a new one and immediately started wondering how long I had to live with it before it became haunted again.
So Now I Clean Once a Week. (Kind Of.)
This part’s annoying. I read that you’re supposed to clean your shower weekly. Like with spray, and scrubbing, and actual effort. I’ve started trying. Emphasis on trying. Sometimes I just spray it down and let it sit while I scroll my phone pretending I’ll come back to it. Sometimes I actually scrub. Sometimes not.
I did buy a cheap extendable brush thing, which helps. I use this citrus-scented cleaner that smells like a lemon made a bad decision in a chemical plant. Works though. Tiles look less haunted.
Loofa, Meet Trash Can
Can we talk about loofas? Or those scrubby mesh puff things? Or whatever you use that makes your body feel cleaner but is secretly disgusting?
Mine—I had it for… maybe too long. It didn’t smell bad, exactly. But also, not great. Kind of like a towel that’s been wet too many times. And it was starting to look… disheveled. Like it had seen some things. I finally looked it up: apparently, you’re supposed to replace them every few weeks. Or disinfect them. Who’s disinfecting their loofa?? I barely disinfect my hands.
Anyway, I threw it out. I’m trying to remember to rinse and hang the new one somewhere it can actually dry between showers. It still ends up on the edge of the tub most days. So. Progress?
The Toilet Thing Nobody Told Me (Until It Was Too Late)
Okay, this part? Honestly upsetting. I always flushed with the lid open. Didn’t even think about it. The sound’s satisfying that way. Whatever. Turns out, that’s a bad move.
Like, microscopic droplets—tiny little toilet ghosts—spray into the air when you flush. They can land on stuff. Your toothbrush. Your soap. That one fancy towel you keep hanging for show but secretly use.
Now I close the lid. Every time. I even started closing it at other people’s houses, which feels like some kind of line has been crossed.
The Whole Cleaning Routine Now (Don’t Expect Magic)
Alright, so here’s what I try to do now, on a good week:
- Spray down the tub and walls with disinfectant (something vaguely citrusy or minty—smells like effort)
- Use a brush, unless I forget where I put it
- Rinse everything off after 10–15 minutes. Sometimes less. I get bored.
- Wipe the shower curtain, or at least shake it around so I feel like I tried
- Hang the loofa somewhere semi-responsible
- Close the toilet lid. Always. Even when no one’s watching
Is it perfect? No. Is it more than what I was doing before? Absolutely.
So… Yeah. I Clean Now. Sort Of.
I don’t love any of this. I wish I could say I’ve become one of those people with a spotless bathroom and a labeled under-sink caddy of supplies. I haven’t. My bathroom still has mystery toothpaste splatter on the mirror and probably a spider hiding somewhere behind the trash can.
But the shower’s cleaner. It doesn’t smell like mildew. And the floor’s not sticky anymore.
That’s something.
