On Saturday a friend and I had a facial.
Because that’s people who don’t have any money coming in do.
It’s not as bad as a woman I met yesterday who said that when her restaurant went belly-up, (her partner was determined to do it without the benefit of a chef in the kitchen) she got herself an American Express card and took two of her children to Fiji for 8 days, staying in fancy places and buying them whatever they wished. She’s been diligently paying it off since then, not realising all she’d been paying off was the interest, so that her $17 000 bill had now become $25 000.
I am not as bad as that.
The facial was at a fancy place where they offer you a choice of rosehip or lavender tea as you sit on a couch and answer a form with questions like:
What are your sleeping habits? (I would like to have a habit. At the moment it is a hobby).
Rate your nutrition level from 1 to 10 (Depends on the day. I am still holding to the fact that breastfeeding takes 500 calories a day. Probably not if you’re only doing it twice a day now like I am, but lets not wax semantics).
What is your beauty regime? (Sorbolene and soap and I don’t want to talk about it).
Then my friend and I were escorted to separate rooms by our individual therapists and I don’t know what happened to her after that.
I was told to sit in a chair, close my eyes and inhale as my therapist rubbed his thumb up the bridge of my nose while passing a smell underneath it.
‘Your body will pick which one is right for you,’ he said calmly.
I chose the second and he said ‘ah’ and nodded his head, like he had expected that all along.
‘Your body chose clarity,’ he said with a meaningful gaze and I tried to work out just why that would be.
Turns out the other two were purity and perspective. My friend’s body chose purity, and given that she’d been eyeing off my brother and his army mates at our recent Thanksgiving when they took of their shirts for a swim, I’d say there could be something in that.
I return from the facial and shortly thereafter Gregory returns from work and announces that due to (probably what should have been foreseen) circumstances, he would be finishing up work 3 weeks early.
|I doubt I looked this good|
Happy Christmas Q. Lucky you think the recycling box is exciting.
Clarity. A little late body.
If only I’d had the massage a week earlier. I would have seen it coming.