Downtime
I really am a hypocrite. Always moaning about downtime this, downtime that, and how I never get any. Ran away on my lunch hour to a nearby beauty salon for a facial. It was glorious: tender fingers touching my face, sweet smelling aromatic oils, mellow CDs, birds twittering, heated, vibrating chair...and I was itching to get up.
I must have Restless Allover Syndrome. I'm lying there with my eyes closed, and this divine lavender mask hardening on my poor mistreated face, in a darkened room. Chair heating up to soothe my aching back. I could have taken a nap. Did I? Nooo. Instead I'm peeping at my watch to see how much longer I have to lie like this. What? You mean I have to lie here in utter luxury in the middle of the day while this stuff soaks into my thirsty skin for A WHOLE FIFTEEN MINUTES? Noooo!!
Incredubly, I actually called the technician and asked her to hurry it up, because I have to get back to work. I must be mad.
Sometimes, I wanna slap myself.
I must have Restless Allover Syndrome. I'm lying there with my eyes closed, and this divine lavender mask hardening on my poor mistreated face, in a darkened room. Chair heating up to soothe my aching back. I could have taken a nap. Did I? Nooo. Instead I'm peeping at my watch to see how much longer I have to lie like this. What? You mean I have to lie here in utter luxury in the middle of the day while this stuff soaks into my thirsty skin for A WHOLE FIFTEEN MINUTES? Noooo!!
Incredubly, I actually called the technician and asked her to hurry it up, because I have to get back to work. I must be mad.
Sometimes, I wanna slap myself.
posted by Roslyn | 11:56 AM
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