Cold shower, not hot Bath
Plush brocade fabrics, soaring windows, crustless cucumber sandwiches, relaxing piano sonatas in the background, pleasant snippets of Jane Austen in the air...
Not in MY Pump Room, nosiree.
This ergo chair? Not so ergo for pumping. The lights are harsh and, it goes without saying, fluorescent. The intractable door--frosted glass, slightly off its track--locks slightly more often than not. I can hear the nasal-voiced admin next door as she makes plans for the weekend, gives terrible relationship advice to friends and snorts at her own unfunny jokes. And did I mention that the people in our lunch room can hear every grating, rhythmic wheeze of the Medela?
Fortunately, I'm able to keep my pumping porn handy. And at least the water here in Palo Alto doesn't reek of sulfur.