I only have 3 clients today. I already spent an hour and a half at starbucks, so now I’m in the Barnes & Noble across the street from ME. There just so happens to be a starbucks in here, too.
I’m looking around at all the books and I’m tempted to sniff some (I like the smell).
It’s 5:30 and my next client doesn’t get here until 7:00. What to write? Hmmm……
I don’t know. I’m bored and a little cold.
I’m drinking a large iced green tea. I drink it for the flavonoids. Flavonoids sound like robotic antioxidants. Androids would drink flavonoids. They would drink a glowing neon blue flavonoid beverage. I’ll have to pee soon. Coincidentally flavonoids contain vitamin P.
There’s a woman sitting at a table with her head down. Like she’s bored in a classroom. I feel like that too.
Perspective is a mind trip. I like to break things down to the bare bones. It helps me categorize, compartmentalize and sling people into their intended stereotypes. When I break down my job description in this manner, to its barest of bones, I rub people. I can’t run and hide from that fact.
The exact definition of massage therapy – the one my teacher’s taught and Wikipedia uses is this: Massage is the manipulation of superficial layers of muscle and connective tissue to enhance the function and promote relaxation and well-being.
Aka – to rub. Although I suppose it’s better than my more detailed definition of, “I rub out hard stuff.”
Client – “You have a great touch, how long you been practicing?”
Me – “Three years. Massage is easy. I just rub what feels hard.”
Client – “Me too.” (Kidding. He never said that)
I been doing massage for longer than 3 years, but no matter how long I keep it up, this answer will remain unchanged.
I like my job. I really do. But I’m not thrilled about it. I know what it feels like to be thrilled about something (blogging), and massaging people doesn’t come close.
I had to massage a woman the other day who had these little pimple-like bumps on her inner thigh. They were unavoidable to massage. It’s so dark in the massage room that I had no idea what I was touching.
So, would I rather blog than massage? Hell yes!