Rejuvenation

This morning I had a massage. And a skin rejuvenating facial. The photo above of my sister's cow has absolutely nothing to do with this by the way. I just posted it because the that cow is so relaxed she feels comfortable slobbering all over the floor of the house while she hollers for her daily weet bix.

So, before I attend my massage I go through my usual morning routine - shower, teeth, clothing. I look decent enough. I'm clean. I smell all perfumey and stuff. I get to the salon and am greeted by a smooth skinned well dressed, slim young girl. Immediately I feel dowdy. My denim skirt and crushed t-shirt and unkempt hair (I didn't bother with this) make me look like the stressed out, time poor mother that I am. She on the other hand looks like she's just stepped off the facial table.

I haven't had a massage for a long time. I had forgotten how uncomfortable they can actually be. I don't mean it's not relaxing, it's just that as soon as they tell you to undress you become instantly aware of the fact that you forgot to wear your best bra and undies. You've got on the ones you wore when you were still pregnant, the ones that have stretched so much they should actually be painted with the southern cross and raised on a flag pole. Your bra strap has been broken for months and it's attached to the cup with a rusty safety pin. You forgot that SOMEONE UNRELATED TO YOU MIGHT SEE THEM.

Luckily she leaves the room and you're able to take off your bra and hide it in your handbag before she sees it. You can get on the table and cover your undies with the towel that's hanging over the end of the massage table.

She tells you to get on the table and get comfortable and she'll be back in a moment. So you do. She comes in. Asks if you're comfortable. Too cool? Too warm? You've got your face shoved in that hole and your skin is being stretched so tight you can't really answer without sounding as though you've been trying to swallow one of the cotton wool balls you saw on the side table.

She warms up some oil in her hands and gets started. Bliss! for a minute or two. Then you get an itch in your leg. Right down behind your knee. You apologise and reach behind you to scratch it. Get relaxed again. Start drooling because you can't get your lips to meet together because they're stretched wide open while you've got your face in the hole. You watch it drip onto the floor. It's better to close your eyes. You relax again.

You start to wonder whether or not she's noticed that hairy spot on your back and is she thinking she'll offer you a wax job before you leave. You hope she doesn't notice the love handles that have formed over your hip area. You wonder if she thinks about having to massage really fat people and does she compare you to them. You hope she doesn't look down at the cracks on your feet and offer to give you a foot job too. Has she noticed that you haven't washed your hair for a few days? Are your ears dirty? You tell yourself that these things don't matter. She does this everyday. Surely she's not checking me over for signs of self neglect while she's attempting to help me relax!

After a while you start to forget about all that stuff because your face is actually numb. You have to pull stupid faces at the floor to help get the feeling back. You realise though that the tension knots in your back have disappeared. Just as you do she tells you it's time for the facial. She says she's leaving the room for a few minutes to make up the mask. She tells you to roll over onto your front and use the towel to cover yourself. You breathe a sigh of relief because you haven't paid any attention to your bikini line in several years.

She re enters the room with a bucket of foul smelling gunk. Apologises for the stench but assures you it's the best facial mask ever and that it's got REAL egg in it! Great! Slopping egg all over your face could be done at home where no one would care about your decrepit underwear but obviously this is a special egg facial. It's got added ingredients that are going to suck the poison straight out of your pores.

You discover the facial part is actually really very nice. Before the smelly gunk goes on some lovely smelling creamy/oily type things are lathered around and some hot towels are used to wipe it off. There's a steamy thing right in front of your nostrils turning the stuff inside your nose into a watery mess that starts rolling down your face. She very gently wipes it off for you and pretends she didn't notice.

Soon enough it's time for the foul smelling gunk. She lathers it on about two inches thick and then leaves. It seems like she's gone forever and left you with this concrete stuff to dry on your face. You can't move or it'll crack. Maybe it's supposed to do that!?

She returns and starts to scrape it off with a spatula. Then she rubs away at your face trying to remove the last dried up bits of egg. Finally it's over. But you don't want it to be. Because while you were in that room having someone pamper you and there was some kind of chanting being played in the background you realise you had actually relaxed and you didn't want to leave the confines of the dimly lit room that seemed a million miles away from the dirty floor, the screaming kids and the pile of bills. You realise it was the best damn massage/ facial you've ever had!

Then you go to work. With bits of dried egg still on your face.