Thoughts from the table

I hesitate to write this because I might be the envy (pun intended) of some.  I had another massage this morning.  You see along with my good looks and great personality (cough-cough), my dad generously passed down the trait of having knots in the upper back.  So I met up with T.  the boss-lady of the place (I guess you call them a masseuse) who goes about her business with utter professionalism, skill, and efficiency.  I must be getting mighty comfortable with her as we did the normal pre-massage banter as to what to do and I pulled off my Keens and was about to disrobe right then and there when she said quickly, 'I'll be right back!'.  So I slip onto the table face down and in she comes.  Asks if I would like the table-warmer on.  Why sure!  It was sublime.  Just the perfect amount of heat for me (most would think it was roasting).  And then she began.  You fall into a weird trance-like state when they get going.  Your eyes just close on their own.  Time is completely irrelevant - which is an amazing thing if you know me at all.  At any given moment I could tell nearly tell you to the minute what time it is.  I digress.  And so my mind wanders off.  Well first it made a mental list of what I needed once I got to Target.  Then after I got that all filed away in the proper recesses of my brain I just listened quietly to the "Muzak".  It was very African sounding today.  Except for the occasional honk of a fake duck.  I wasn't impressed today with the choice.  The duck got annoying.  The clattering of some fake wooden instrument as well.  And do people really sit in little rooms recording that?  Or is it all computer generated?  I dunno.  So T. silently worked her magic.  Pressed those knots down until they cried mercy and disappeared.  And then about 15 minutes (or so... I have no idea really) before my time was up, the wonderful steaming 10 oz. mug of coffee I had this morning started to haunt me.  I had to go.  Like pretty bad.  But I forced myself to think of thoughts of the Serengeti (hey, it was African-sounding music, remember?).  Desert.  Vast wastelands without a drop of water in them.  And finally she said 'you're all set'.  You bet I am.  I'm about to make this a water-table.  And out she went.  And I scurried into my duds and raced down the hall to use the facility before she walked up with a big smile and a full water bottle.

And so a very full and wonderful weekend is coming up.  And it won't be so full and wonderful if I don't do some preparing.  At least I'm relaxed!