In Need of a Cure

After being called out of the shower by Matt this morning for taking too long, I was prompted to reflect once again upon the fact that I'm pretty certain I have a disease. It's a condition which I've suffered with from a very young age. A severe and very specific psychological defect. You see, ladies and gentlemen, I suffer from Showerlingeristus.

Showerlingeristus (noun) - A condition of the mind which blocks memory, anxiety and concern of external matters when the body is brought into contact with streams of steaming hot water. Those affected by Showerlingeristus will likely experience symptoms of severe punctuality deficiency, social tension and wrinkled fingertips.

Here's how it works: I wake up in the morning and find that, due to an overzealous affection towards the snooze button, I am running ever so slightly late (this might be for a meeting or a lesson or just to get into the office at a reasonable time). I spring out of my bed and set a time limit to everything. I need to pack my bag with everything I need for the day, leave it lying by the door with my coat, pick up my clothes, run into the bathroom, jump in and out of the shower, brushing my teeth and shaving while I'm in there, get out, throw my clothes on, pick up my bag and coat, and then, if all has gone according to plan, I should be able to get out the door within 15 minutes. But everything has to be quick. Ok? Ok. So go.

I grab everything I need for the day, stuff it into my bag, leave it lying by the door with my coat, pick up my clothes, run into the bathroom, get the shower gel, shampoo, toothpaste, toothbrush and razor ready, turn on the hot water, jump into the shower...and then it all goes wrong from there. I physically and mentally cannot have a quick shower. As soon as I step under that water, that's it. You've lost me. I could be rushing to the hospital with a cure that will save millions from an epidemic (a breakout of acute showerlingeristus for example). But as soon as I get in that shower, it all fades away. My mind drifts to all sorts of philosophical quandaries and imaginative daydreams and I completely lose track of time and awareness that I'm running late. Fortunately, it rarely becomes an issue in the Whitehouse as everyone tends to get up at different times but it's a real pain when I'm trying to get somewhere on time.

Does anyone else suffer from this debilitating illness? Is there a cure?