I just came home after having a massage and boy, do I feel loopy. Sean gave me a gift certificate to Burke Williams for our anniversary last year and I finally got around to using it. If I could feel this relaxed and pain-free all the time, I know my insomnia and stress would disappear and I would be an all-around better person to hang out with. My plan now is to win the lottery so I can hire a full-time masseuse.
The massage itself was lovely. I chose the Pure Relaxation massage, and it certainly lived up to its name -- though the fact that I am sleep-deprived and had taken some allergy meds an hour before probably contributed to my "I'm so sleeeeepy" feeling. My masseuse was a Russian woman named Svetlana who spoke excellent English but had a very thick accent; as I began to feel the soothing effects of the massage, my mind began to drift and I only picked up on about half of what she said. She was a talker, that Svetlana, not that I minded at all. I'd ask her a simple question, like, "How long have you been doing this?" and she would reveal to me vast chunks of her personal history while I lay there semi-conscious, murmuring, "Mm hm." The room was dark and cool and smelled of eucalyptus, and Svetlana kept catching me off guard with massage oils that were surprisingly cool or surprisingly warm. When we were done I put on my robe and she escorted me downstairs, actually holding my elbow as if she were afraid I would keel over. "Are you dizzy?" she asked me. I assured her I was not, but I felt as if I were moving underwater; at my very core I couldn't see any need to rush, so why should I? I felt sedated without actually being sedated.
The rest of the "spa experience" fell a little short, but that's because of who I am -- I usually feel insecure in new situations I have to deal with on my own. All the other patrons seemed familiar with where everything was and the routine of how and when you do things. Almost everybody seemed to be there with a friend or two, while I was alone. Everyone had a bathing suit so they could use the jacuzzi and misting room, whereas I haven't owned a swimsuit in years and probably wouldn't have thought to bring it if I did. I probably should have spent more time adjusting back to the real world, but instead I washed my face and hands, combed my hair, drank two cups of citrus-flavored water, got dressed, and left. Besides feeling uncomfortable with my lack of knowledge at how best to do things, I was also disturbed at how quickly everyone was moving around -- while I drifted, all the other women around me seemed to be scurrying. It made me a little anxious, so I was happy to leave. Nevertheless, I'd go back in a heartbeat, especially with a friend.
Pardon me while I go use my own shower to wash all this oil or lotion or whatever it is off. Then: nap time.