Assuming you're not one of the mouth-breathers who I offended with PBE #1, you've managed to actually wash your hands. Look out! The next tricky part awaits...
Unless you are severely disfigured, or perhaps spontaneously contract some debilitating form of palsy, turn off the damn faucet. I mean, you turned it on, right? It isn't that hard. I have never encountered a faucet that was easy to turn on, but required a torque wrench and deep-well impact socket to turn off. And because I just hate the sound and idea of a dripping faucet - something about it just assaults my poor, delicate sensibilities - I always turn them off. And so far, I've never attempted to halt a faucet some other asshat left running and thought to myself, "I'm sorry for those unkind thoughts I had about you, good sir. This faucet is indeed far too difficult to extinguish."
On a side note, this is very much like the weights at the gym: If you're big enough to put them on the bar and work out with them, you're big enough to take them off and put them away. Nobody but you gives a shit how much weight you lifted, so don't leave it on display as some kind of retarded trophy to your epic swollness.
I'm not sure what kind of household you grew up in, but I grew up in one where hearing mom yelling, "Shut the door! Were you raised in a damn barn?" was fairly routine. You open the door, shut it. You turn on the light, turn it off. You lifted the lid, put it back down again. You get the general idea: don't be a fucking slob.
So yeah, I apologize that you were apparently raised by a mother who didn't love you, but do the rest of us a favor and turn off the faucet.
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