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| View from the backyard yesterday morning |
Yup, that’s right! The white fluffy stuff fell from the sky throughout the morning, melted off in the afternoon, and then picked up again last night. We’re sitting on 30 degrees with a light layer of snow outside, and I love it!
Because of the cold weather, I canceled the work day for my employees yesterday. I still had a lot of indoor stuff to do, but weather days always mean that I have an easier schedule. In order to capitalize on that, I decided to go in for a massage. I try to get one per month, but I think it’s been a bit longer than that!
I headed into the massage office and spoke with the man at the front desk. I filled out the paperwork, passed it over, and then he asked me, “Do you need to use the restroom before we get started?” I said yes and headed back to the bathroom before the light bulb went off inside my head: had he just used the royal WE?! Did I have a male masseuse?
Here’s the thing y’all: I am the least modest person ever. If someone wants to look at me naked or be all creepy and watch me change, that is seriously their problem. I spent years as a dancer where quick costume changes in front of dozens of people were a common experience. Additionally, have you seen some of the costumes dancers wear? It’s almost the same as prancing around on stage naked! In short, that kind of stuff doesn’t bother me.
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| I giggled like a kindergarten student. I am so immature 🙂 Also, I CUT MY HAIRS! What do you think?! |
Having said that, I always prefer a female massage therapist. I used to see one guy in Steamboat but he was a sports massage therapist and he was older and I knew him…so it was less weird. Plus, sports massages tend to focus on particular areas. The guy yesterday? He was a whopping 23-years-old. That made it even worse because I remember what my male friends were like (and what they though of!) when we were all 23! Trust me, it wasn’t appropriate stuff!
I received a relaxation massage which involved lots of light caressing and tender rubbing of my muscles. I always strip down to my underwear for massages, and I immediately started to wonder if that was my best decision. Don’t get me wrong– the masseuse was very professional and gave me a wonderful massage. Unfortunately, I was the immature one! I even found myself internally giggling when he “held my hand” during the massage. Apparently I’m worse than a 5-year old!