This week I’m getting real about massages. Those little slices of luxurious pampering that you do once in a while to relax and unwind. When you are supposed to be drifting into a realm of utter serenity, you can’t help but let your mind wander. Here’s what we are all thinking…
1. Is there actually a correct way round to put on paper pants? Like srsly?
2. Is having this much of my bum out really necessary?
3, Why hasn’t someone invented a treatment bed with boob holes yet?
4. I wonder how many semi-naked people this masseuse has actually seen?
5. What the hell can I do to stop my toe nails squeaking on the bed? (if you do not have this thought then I do apologise, and must be the only person with very shiny, squeaky toenails).
6. Is that clicking/popping/cracking normal or is my back now actually broken?
7. What if I kick the masseuse in the face when they are massaging my feet?
8. Are those whale sounds or stomach rumbles?
9. Have I got the tightest shoulders he/she has ever felt?
10. When is the ‘no pain no gain’ mantra no longer applicable? (probably while grimacing through the sheer hell of a fist in the calf)
11. How does an elbow in the back manage to feel so good and so bad at the same time?
12. When am I going to be rich enough to afford regular massages?
13. Oooh, who knew head massages felt so nice?
14. Surely it hasn’t been a whole hour already?
15. Now where do I deposit these bloomin’ paper pants? *tucks into dressing gown pocket and forgets all about them*
So next time you’re lying face down waiting for someone to give you a rub down (oh er!) I hope you’ll be thinking of me (well, this blog post)…