I tucked it away in a drawer for several months, but just because it was out of sight didn’t mean it was out of mind. Oh, no. I thought about it nearly every day, but resisted the temptation to use it. “It” was a gift certificate that my Sweet Spousal Unit gave me for my birthday. That little piece of paper entitled me to the massage treatment of my choice at my favorite salon.

Didn’t they use to call “salons” and “spas” by a different name? I called them “massage parlors,” but I guess that name has a different connotation these days.

No matter. It isn’t one of those kinds of places. It’s a marvelous salon here in Denton that offers everything to pamper a person’s body: Partial massage, full body massage, reflexology, manicure, pedicure, facial, waxing…you name it (well, please don’t name it if you are thinking about “massage parlors”…I told you it’s not that kind of place).

I’ve been longing to visit it since March. I’ve perused the “menu of services,” trying to decide exactly what I wanted. It really didn’t matter what kind of massage I had. I just longed to be pampered!

The only thing I don’t like about getting a massage is that when I go in and get all relaxed I usually come home to chaos. The good money I’ve spent to get calm goes right out the window. I’ve been waiting for a week with no stress so that the massage would do me some good.

This was the week. No, Hell didn’t freeze over…this week is not without stress. I just decided that, since a week with no stress is highly unlikely, maybe I should just make the appointment. For once, I made a wise decision.

A “River Stone Massage” was just the ticket. Have any of y’all ever had one of those? It “rocks,” so to speak. Smooth stones, heated in oil, are used to knead the muscle tissue. I chose to have a 90 minute massage. Decadence!! The combination of massage and heat, in a darkened room with soothing music, melted all my troubles away. It made me feel more limber and relaxed than I have been in months.

It also turned my brain to mush!

I came home limp, and was just about worthless for the rest of the night. I just sat around with a smile on my face like a ‘possum up a plum tree.

I can’t afford to pamper myself with a massage very often, though I’d like to have one every week (if I could just get my lottery numbers to match). From what I’ve read, a massage has “healing power.” I’ll testify to that. I wonder if I could get my doctor to give me a prescription?

If she will, I won’t hide it in a drawer for six months!