Today I decided to treat myself to one of those intermittent pedicures I like to indulge in every so often. I even emailed HeyJules to see if she wanted to join me, but she must have been too busy or didn't see the email. Turns out it was just as well.
It took two hours.
Oh, not that I wasn't in a state of bliss for those two hours. Not at all. I mean, who wouldn't love soaking tired, hot feet in a jacuzzi of warm water for twenty minutes or so while having a back and shoulder massage by the chair you're sitting in? And then, if you just so happen to let it slip that you've had a very hard couple of weeks and this is your way of relaxing, the person who is in charge of your pedicure AND manicure might just put in super extra time massaging your feet and hands, especially if you mention offhandedly about the arthritis you have in your feet that has been bothering you for so long and your husband won't EVER rub your tootsies for you.
So there was great rejoicing in All The Rubbing, my friends. Great and powerful rejoicing indeed. And the compliments to the Hands Created By God To Ease Pain And Suffering flowed freely from my lips. Yea, and the feet which were rubbed did indeed do a little happy dance all on their own accord.
Of course, I think the two glasses of Sangria they provided had a little something to do with that, but I could be mistaken. Stranger things have happened.
One of these days I may end up taking this, my one guilty pleasure, for granted.
But it won't be any time soon.