Miserable Monday Jun03


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Miserable Monday

oh no monday morning

It’s Monday morning and I’m going to take a moment to complain. That’s what Monday’s are for right? I mean, who actually enjoys Monday’s? Time out. I’m not actually inviting all of you optimistic Monday loving type people to write me and tell me all the reasons why Monday’s are great. Let me have my moment, ok?

My reason for complaining on this particular Monday actually started yesterday, on Sunday. Now, that doesn’t seem fair does it? Sundays are suppose to be a good day. The tail end of the weekend. A day for relaxing, hanging out by the pool (in between rain storms if you live in Florida like I do), napping, reading the paper, what have you. Well, that is exactly what I tried to do.

My husband and I found a deal on Half Off Depot for an hour massage that we couldn’t pass up. We bought one for both of us, and scheduled simultaneous appointments. We were both looking forward to a good rub down since we love being massaged, but hate giving massages. Not a good partnership. I know, we’re working on it. We went in hoping they wouldn’t judge us on our coupon, and give us a “half price” massage. We also agreed if there was a guy masseuse , my husband wouldn’t have to have his half naked body rubbed by him, because that would be weird. Ok honey. Anything for you.

So we go in to our separate rooms and strip down, lay face down, and get rubbed down. Now, this is where my Sunday should have been completely relaxing. I should have drifted off into la la land, listening to the quiet sounds of her “Nature’s Music” CD and smelling the aromatherapy candle while my muscles are gently massaged into putty. It started off normal. She lathered up her hands in sweet smelling lotion and slid them down my back.Painful-Massage-Image

Then it happened. Like it always does. She found one. Then another. And another. The inevitable knots. My back is full of them. It’s like someone lifted my skin and dumped a bag of marbles under there. Once she found them, it was then her sole purpose to make them go away. She pushed, she poked, she rolled. She didn’t let up on those nettlesome knots the entire time. Now, I know what you are going to say. Yes, I could have said something. But, in my defense, there was a small part of me that thought, what if she’s the one? What if she CAN make them go away? If I just endure this excruciating pain for the next hour, maybe I’ll have no more back trouble?

So, jump to today. Monday. I am in pain. I am sore. I probably have bruises. All from my relaxing massage. My back hurts worse than it did before I went. Maybe it has to get worse before it gets better? Yeah. I’ll stick with that theory. It just might work. ¬†Maybe those Monday loving optimists are on to something after all.