I had a massage after school yesterday, and, as such, it gave me an idea for a blog post. My masseuse, Haley, is wonderful, and I bet she'd crack up if she knew all the things I think during a massage. Here are just a few highlights from this crazy brain of mine...
1. Should I talk? I mean, isn't it rude to just be silent? Is she bored? Dies she want to talk? Is it selfish to just loll about in silence during my massage? As a result, tend to chat in strange bursts during my massage. That's not awkward at all, right?
2. Is it weird that I give feedback? Oh yes. Right there. Gosh, that hurts. Hunh. Whew. That's pretty tender. I mean, is it weird to make happy noises as she works the knots out of my back? I guess it might sound odd to anyone listening in, but I need to let her know. So, yeah, I'm noisy.
3. Lying there on the table, I always wonder, am I sweaty? Did I shave my legs today? Are my elbows rough? Somehow, I feel obligated to try to make my massage as pleasant for her as possible.
4. Could I afford to come every week, I always debate in my mind. What would I be willing to give up in order to come every week instead of every two weeks? Is cable really worth it? I mean, my massages make me pretty happy.
5. Why don't massage tables have a hole cut out for your boobs like they have for your face? It's not comfortable to lay facedown when you have big boobs. I have to decide which way I want to squish them - to the side, to the bottom, or to the top, one each direction. None of these options is fun, you know.
6. Why doesn't my health insurance program cover massages? It seems like that might be more effective and safer than just popping a bunch of pills. I hate bureaucracy. Oh, maybe flex money would work here. I should definitely check on this.
7. Would it be weird to have her rub my head and neck for the whole hour? I mean, it's not a great use of my massage time, but I think it could really help. Oh, or maybe an hour on just my shoulder blades. That sounds like a good idea too.
8. Am I the only person with knots in her tush? I mean, I give new meaning to the word hardass. I guess I just walk around clenching my tush with stress constantly. Have you ever tried to consciously relax your tush? It's crazy difficult to do - or maybe that's just me. I challenge you to try it while driving; that's near impossible, I tell you.
9. That weird 'relaxing' cd she plays all the time - I wonder if it's just one damn song repeated over and over. At first it's relaxing, then it drives me nuts, and then I just tune it out. Does she like that music? Like, does she listen to it in the car? Or is it like masseuse mandatory and you'd lose your license if you didn't play that weird crap? I'm not a fan...
10. Did I tip her enough? Does she know how much I appreciate her? I'd tip her more if I could afford it and hope she knows that.
And that, my friend, in a nutshell, is why I need to learn to meditate. This brain of mine is exhausting...