Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Frankie makes it sound so easy.

This time last year I signed up for one of those auto subscription things to a business called Massage Envy. Basically, they take a set amount of money automatically every month and in return, I get a massage. Seemed like a fabulous deal for me - I mean, a massage? Every month? With no guilt? It was the Best! Idea! Ever!

Honestly? Those massages really feel like they are free because I don't have to pay for them when I go in. Some anonymous benefactor is covering the cost. I just have to tip. WIN! Well, in a little place called "Jayna's Delusions" they are paid for by an anonymous benefactor. In reality, I am the anonymous benefactor.

This past Monday I had my massage scheduled for 8:00. My plan: I would work all day, go to my Tae-kwon-do class and then head on over for a lovely massage. I would relax and enjoy and then go home, fall into bed and sleep like a baby for at least 8 hours awaking refreshed and happy and, with luck, richer and thinner. Yeah. Nice plan. Poor execution.

My inner monologue while on the massage table sounded something like this:

Oohhh...this table is so nice and warm. I am going to LOVE this massage. This is going to be so relaxing. I am going to clear my mind. Think about nothing. Clear my mind. Think about nothing but the soothing music. Music. Music. I love music. I need to get on iTunes and download some new stuff for my phone. I wonder if I should get a new phone. Eric really wants the new 3G and it would be nice to get it for Christmas. Ugh. Christmas. I need to finish Christmas shopping. I need to go shopping period. I really need boots for work and more pants. I mean, I only have a couple of pairs that even really look good anymore and I should get some that look better and...oh wait. Clear my mind. Clear. Think about nothing. Think about static on a tv. Nothing to see. Nothing there. Just static on the tv. I really liked that episode of Amazing Race on Sunday. I hope the team with the lawyer guy lose soon. He's an ass. He obviously has issues because he is all Mr. Workout with these huge muscles and he is so mean to his girlfriend. I hate guys like that. They think it is ok to treat everyone, especially women, like crap just because they are all buff and stuff. Thing is he isn't even good-looking! He is just an idiot! He should really get therapy. Speaking of therapy. I should get physical therapy on my knees. It is really driving me crazy how they hurt all the time and I am just sick of constantly being virtually crippled and...ah, shit. RELAX! STOP THINKING! SHEESH! Clear your mind. Relax. Empty head. Think nothing. Just empty your head. Deep breaths. Deeps breaths. In. Out. In. Out. Relax. Relax. Relax. Relax. Don't do it. When you want to go to it. Relax. Don't do it. When you want to come. ARGH! Stop it! What is wrong with you woman?! Why can't you just empty your freakin' mind like normal people. Holy crap! Clearly? You are insane! Ok...ok...I AM going to clear my mind. I can do this. I can. Clear my mind. Nothing to see here. Just my empty mind. Oh, wait. She is getting ready to work on the back of my thighs. I hate this part. I can just see the cellulite puckering up in all is cottage cheesy glory and this is really embarrassing. It's just hanging out there for the whole world to see. Good thing it's dim in here. Too bad I can't walk around in flattering lighting all the time. Wouldn't that be great? Also? I think it would be awesome to have a movie soundtrack in your head. That way, you would always know what was going to happen. You could really stay out of trouble just by listening to the ominous music that always plays when the psycho killer is waiting in the next room and it would make dating so much easier. Well, I mean, if I were single. Man, I am glad I am not single. Eric is so great. I really got lucky with him. I mean, met at a bar and all that jazz. It usually doesn't work out that way and it was just like we met and it was perfect and here we are 8 years later with a son and...AGAIN with the thinking! Just take deep breaths. Really?! Obsess much? Just clear your head you freaking loser! It can't be THAT hard! All you have to do is stop with the thinking...

...and so it went. For an hour and a half. An hour and a half during which I did not clear my mind for one single second. I did; however, mentally complete my Christmas shopping list, design the perfect Halloween costume if only I were 25 pounds thinner, determine exactly how many days I would have to starve myself in order to lose said 25 pounds before the Halloween party, calculate the emergency room costs for each visit made after fainting in Tae-kwon-do class after not eating on starvation days and planned a trip to Vegas during which I would hit a jackpot allowing me to be a lady of leisure and hire a personal trainer.

I think I need to work on that whole relaxation thing. Apparantly? I am not very good at it.

2 comments:

Peanut said...

1. Relax is not a song about relaxing. Look it up, you will like it.

2. When I get a massage I always start out thinking about all the shiz i have to do and how my masseuse must feel weird playing with my back fat, but I usually end up snoring halfway through, even on my stomach, and I think that negates any worries I have about being judged on my fat.

3. You're taking Tae-Kwon-Do? That's baddass.

Jayna Shaye said...

Yes...I know the song isn't about relaxing in the typical sense of the word. I think that is part of why I found it amusing. However, I was chanting the word in my head and the song was a natural progression.

I would agree that Tae-kwon-do is badass except that I look like a complete idiot when attempting pretty much all of the required moves. It also reminds of me of just how out of shape and jiggly I am.