You would think, with all the time I spend on Facebook during the week, that I might be biting my nails down to the nub, but no! I sit down at the computer, check my few emails and I'm pretty much done. Of course I want to know if so-and-so's baby has rolled over for the first time, or to wish what's-his-name a happy birthday along with his other 5,000 friends, but you know what? My Facebook fast has me focusing on other things right now, and I have to say that it is quite freeing.
At lunchtime, Casey came home and I rushed out to the Healthplex for the first of two 30-minute massage therapy sessions I will be having this week. My very thoughtful husband put the gift cards for these massages in my Christmas stocking, and I saved them for when I thought I'd really need them, which is now. The lady who gave the massage was very nice -- a little talkative, but I am too, so it worked out.
Since we were in the Healthplex, a local gym, there were lots of different exercise classes taking place. The one next door to us was a strength-building class. I've taken something similar before, and it can get intense, but the guy leading this class was seriously yelling at these people! I'm all for motivation, but I think after five minutes of that I would be out. But for some reason, it wasn't really annoying while I was supposed to be having a relaxing massage. It was hilarious, and I'm sure I had the goofiest look on my face, which was resting on that open pillow thing, as I grinned at all the crazy yelling.
So the pan-flute-new-age music is going, I'm having the massage, but I keep hearing things like, "Come ON!" and one of the guys taking the class yelling, "I like it, I love it, I want some more of it!" and then the instructor saying something about pain and it being necessary. Yikes. Still, it was really funny, and I kept wondering if the woman giving the massages gets tired of the noise when her world is supposed to be presented as calming, soothing -- you know, the opposite of painful exercise.
My 30 minute (wonderful) massage over, I got up and first thing I did was look in a small mirror on the wall. Just as I suspected! Pillow lines all over my face, mascara smudged...oh well. Relaxation comes at a price, right?
At lunchtime, Casey came home and I rushed out to the Healthplex for the first of two 30-minute massage therapy sessions I will be having this week. My very thoughtful husband put the gift cards for these massages in my Christmas stocking, and I saved them for when I thought I'd really need them, which is now. The lady who gave the massage was very nice -- a little talkative, but I am too, so it worked out.
Since we were in the Healthplex, a local gym, there were lots of different exercise classes taking place. The one next door to us was a strength-building class. I've taken something similar before, and it can get intense, but the guy leading this class was seriously yelling at these people! I'm all for motivation, but I think after five minutes of that I would be out. But for some reason, it wasn't really annoying while I was supposed to be having a relaxing massage. It was hilarious, and I'm sure I had the goofiest look on my face, which was resting on that open pillow thing, as I grinned at all the crazy yelling.
So the pan-flute-new-age music is going, I'm having the massage, but I keep hearing things like, "Come ON!" and one of the guys taking the class yelling, "I like it, I love it, I want some more of it!" and then the instructor saying something about pain and it being necessary. Yikes. Still, it was really funny, and I kept wondering if the woman giving the massages gets tired of the noise when her world is supposed to be presented as calming, soothing -- you know, the opposite of painful exercise.
My 30 minute (wonderful) massage over, I got up and first thing I did was look in a small mirror on the wall. Just as I suspected! Pillow lines all over my face, mascara smudged...oh well. Relaxation comes at a price, right?
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