Back before my roommate and I had lives (read met the men of our dreams), we had a regular “kitty spa day.” It involved brushing and claw trimming for our feline friends, who never seemed to appreciate the effort.
That’s right: I treated myself to a full 90 minutes of relaxation at the local Aveda salon. It was glorious.
And it wasn’t just any massage. No, this time I went really fancy by going for the hot stones.
I’ve heard great things about hot stone massage, and have wanted to try one since I first discovered the technique … and this was my chance. (Couldn’t think of a better splurge for the cash I’m earning for watching my friend’s cats while she’s on vacation. Sure, I should have used it to make an installment payment on my computer — but that’s no fun. I can do the boring stuff on payday Friday.)
Never having done a massage with hot stones before, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Turns out, it was like a regular massage, only warmer at times.
My lower back got a hot stone. The therapist also put one on my third eye and wedged them between my toes, which is supposed to help stretch and strengthen feet and improve balance and posture. She told me it works like YogaToes. That felt strange, but good. In fact, once she removed them, it felt like they were still there. Weird, but not uncomfortable.
I think I may have fallen asleep, because before I knew it, she misted my legs with water — the sign the massage was over. I couldn’t believe it’d already been an hour and a half, but the clock proved me wrong.
“No matter how long a massage is, I bet it never feels long enough,” I said. She agreed that was the case.
Too short or not, it was amazing. And this time, I didn’t feel like crap shortly thereafter. (Can’t remember if I blogged about it, but after my last massage, I drove to Safeway right away and sat in the car, unwilling and practically unable to move, for about 20 or 30 minutes. I suspect it was because it’d been more than a year between massages, because I’d had plenty of water.)
Yeah. Check out that blissed-out grin. If I could afford to have a massage once a month, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
In a heartbeat, I tell you.
I did end up taking myself to see “This is the End” after hitting “publish” on my WIAW post. OMG, that movie was hilarious. Ridiculous, but funnier than anything I’ve seen in months. (Yes, better than “Hangover III.”)
Guess I’m just a sucker for a good apocalypse flick. (“Dogma” is one of my all-time favorites.)
I splurged on a small popcorn (no butter) for the movie. Heck, if the world’s coming to an end, I’m gonna eat the damn popcorn.
After the movie, I considered running to the store to pick up some ham to make a pizza. Then I remembered I’d eaten pizza for lunch … and decided to go home and heat up the Diet-to-Go meal I’d originally planned to have.
But it was incredibly filling, so I won’t complain.
With the ice cream cone and movie popcorn, I ended up using quite a few Flex Points: I’m allowed 33 Points and ate 45. Since I’ve been close to on-target all week so far (!), I still have 32 of 49 FPs left.
Yes, that’s after counting today’s splurges.
Ahem. Another reminder that tracking works. Instead of feeling out-of-control and letting that “I blew it” feeling spiral into MORE less-than-healthy choices, I can see what I ate was not, in fact, so terrible. Sure, I used 12 extra Points (technically all but 1 of them on dinner after the show, but I knew I’d end up eating more later if I tried to skip dinner).
Using 12 FPs in one day is not the end of the world, especially when I only had 5 extras (total) on Monday and Tuesday.
Weight Watchers works if you work it. I need to remember that.