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...