I Always Felt Like I Was Being Watched In The Shower. Now I Know Why.

In February 2010 I quietly referenced my fear of being watched while using the bathroom - more specifically, public bathrooms.  I had theories that perverts had so stealthily installed spy-cams in the floor drains or ceiling-mounted air vents to watch unsuspecting women wipe their asses.  For this reason, I would strictly observe the floor drain/ceiling vent situation in any public bathroom before choosing a stall to use.  Some people laughed at me for this - that is until my theory was validated from a woman at work who's husband's coworker was fired for installing a camera in his bathroom.  He had a home office and clients would come to his house and ultimately use his bathroom during their visit, unknowingly giving him a taped performance.  A nearby neighbour had a truck with video technology in it to show the driver what was behind the truck when backing up.  One morning, the driver of this truck was looking at the screen expecting to see images of the road, when what he got was images of his neighbour's wife taking a deuce in her bathroom.

So back to my fears.  They focus not only on using the toilet, but also bathing, and understandably so.  I've never been one to use the showers at the gym, and call me extreme, but I am uncomfortable showering in other people's homes.  I never suspected though that I would have this kind of problem in my own house.
Everytime I shower I feel like I'm in this episode of The Simpsons, only without so many donuts:

The first face I see in the showers every morning?

I think I'm a little insulted that he always looks so startled at my nakedness.  This is basically the expression I carry on my face whenever looking at those "People of Walmart" e-mails.  Especially the one where the lady in the shorts has her catheter bag strapped to her calf.  *shudder*

About a foot and a half to the right of Homer is this guy:

This guy is a little terrifying.  I can't tell if he's pleased to see what he sees or if he's trying to stifle laughter.  Either way, it gives me the heebie jeebies.

Finally, I see a number of faces that look like this:

I refer to these faces as the "Lost Souls". 

I'm quite confident that between the faces of Homer and the Devil on the shower curtain, and these "Lost Souls" in the shower tiles, my shower is actually hell-on-earth despite its spacious beauty. 

Ryan doesn't see them.  This concerns me because I suspect they only surface when I'm showering.  I have a hard time dealing with the fact that souls are potentially punished by being forced to watch me shower.  *sigh*