There was a poster of the muscular system on the door of the room I was placed in, waiting for my massage. Practically nekkid, lying under a thin sheet, staring at the muscles of a friggin god. It makes a person feel, at the very least, humble. Realistically, I felt more like a beached whale brought in for the autopsy. Then I think how funny it would be if it was the muscles of just some average schlub, with bad posture and a trick knee. I would like to see them standing together. I wonder what schlub's butt would look like, and if it would be better than mine.
The lady came in and started to raise the table, prompting my need to comment that I felt like I was at the dentist. Which then prompted her shushing me.
Now I feel like I'm in school.
"Just try to relax," she instructed.
How do I relax when a gore-tastic Superman is over there staring at me?
You know your brain is being a little too chatty when you spend 60 minutes wondering if you're laying correctly on the table. She lifts your leg from under the sheet and you attempt to assist. "Just relax," she says again.
If I knew how to do that, I wouldn't be here.
3 comments:
Schlub. Amazing. Thank you for the blog love.
Oh, but do you feel better after? <ore relaxed? I've been thinking about getting a masage but maybe one where they light candles and leave the grey's anatomy posters out of it : )
Touche'. I might not feel as comfortable seeing they need a road map of sorts for various muscles. Shouldn't they know this stuff already? ;)
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