Beauty Therapy
My nervous system is shot. I'm overwhelmed and worrisome about most aspects of my life right now. Knowing this too shall pass, I am handling (hiding) it quite well. The only noticeable physical evidence is the daily 4pm tension headaches and the occasional over-the-top berating of an unsuspecting asshole.
But I am starting to notice cracks in the foundation, and since I don't wear make-up, I know it's my well-being that's compromised. There is not enough wine in the world to make it go away and underneath the nearest large rock was occupied, so a Calgon moment was in order.
Unfortunately, the bathtubs in this house are punishment not pleasure (just ask the dog) so I went to the only other place that I knew could soothe me. The spa. Oh, and the salon. I have been cut, colored, waxed, plucked, rubbed, tugged, cleansed, extracted and scrubbed of my burdens.
Except one. I'm now poor. Today was expensive. But no doubt cheaper than 30-days in an outpatient clinic. I have yet to be filed, clipped and polished, but I plan to tomorrow after I scrub the kitchen floor by hand. I have to pay penance for my indulgence, naturally.
I had just one uncomfortable moment today, which is saying something given the services performed. During my facial, the esthetician lifted my shoulders, began to massage and whispered kindly, "girl, you got the weight of the world back here". And that's when I cried. Laying on my back with rubberized algae and seaweed on my face in front of a complete stranger.
Because she was right, and she knew. She was so kind to me, trying to make it all better. Letting it out may have helped more than all the beautification, and I did get the bonus pity pamper for an extra 30 minutes. Awesome. And I suppose it could have been worse. I could have been having my colon cleansed and crying like a baby. Thank God for small miracles.
After the finishing touches tomorrow, my pretty self will be in working order once again to face the world with a smile and confidence at all it wants to throw at me.
Fortunately, I'm so smooth it's gonna roll right off.
But I am starting to notice cracks in the foundation, and since I don't wear make-up, I know it's my well-being that's compromised. There is not enough wine in the world to make it go away and underneath the nearest large rock was occupied, so a Calgon moment was in order.
Unfortunately, the bathtubs in this house are punishment not pleasure (just ask the dog) so I went to the only other place that I knew could soothe me. The spa. Oh, and the salon. I have been cut, colored, waxed, plucked, rubbed, tugged, cleansed, extracted and scrubbed of my burdens.
Except one. I'm now poor. Today was expensive. But no doubt cheaper than 30-days in an outpatient clinic. I have yet to be filed, clipped and polished, but I plan to tomorrow after I scrub the kitchen floor by hand. I have to pay penance for my indulgence, naturally.
I had just one uncomfortable moment today, which is saying something given the services performed. During my facial, the esthetician lifted my shoulders, began to massage and whispered kindly, "girl, you got the weight of the world back here". And that's when I cried. Laying on my back with rubberized algae and seaweed on my face in front of a complete stranger.
Because she was right, and she knew. She was so kind to me, trying to make it all better. Letting it out may have helped more than all the beautification, and I did get the bonus pity pamper for an extra 30 minutes. Awesome. And I suppose it could have been worse. I could have been having my colon cleansed and crying like a baby. Thank God for small miracles.
After the finishing touches tomorrow, my pretty self will be in working order once again to face the world with a smile and confidence at all it wants to throw at me.
Fortunately, I'm so smooth it's gonna roll right off.
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