I begin this week with a certain level of exhaustion, so relaxing treatments are sounding appealing to me right now.
Maybe I should be a little more embarrassed of my weight. I actually weigh a lot. Luckily, I don’t look as fat as I really am, which in my mind, gives me license to eat more. I also think that my ability to lose large amounts of weight in short periods of time doesn’t encourage me to adopt a more healthy lifestyle. Yet, I keep trying because I aspire to be health-concious.
I attribute it to being “muscular” underneath my fat.
Surprisingly, I have no issues with going to a spa and getting rubbed down by a total stranger. Or NOT a total stranger…one of my friends was my massage therapist when I lived in GA. I miss her hands….not in a creepy way.
But I can’t help but wonder how gross it must be to rub down a complete stranger. I would imagine that hairy people are the worst. I keep wondering how to bring up the subject of “man-scaping” to my sons without completely horrifying them, while not completely encouraging them to start trimming away pubes on my bathroom floor. Let’s be honest…these kids don’t pick up their socks, so do you really think they will scoop up rogue crotch hairs?
Actually, I think rubbing down a fat person wouldn’t be that bad. Kind of like a large stress ball. Or bread dough….Sounds stress relieving on a different level.
I am also desperately trying to stop smoking. I really need to, and I know all the reasons why. But unless I start drinking more often, it’s the last thing I can clutch to in a panic attack since I’ve given up the Xanax. And I’ve been smoking a lot lately. I seem to be failing at everything I am attempting in the past two weeks, and normally I’m fine with that. But right now I need things to be going right.
I need Tom Cruises help. The mystic power of Scientology.
Okay, maybe I’m not that desperate.