I have been working. Back to work. Working. Working. Working.
And this morning my dear husband needed me to make the trek to my eldest's acting class 40 miles north. But he had a carrot. A wonderful little massage place called, "Foot Inspiration." He'd happened on to it several months ago. And on his Saturday jaunts to the Valley, when he isn't writing or brunching with a friend or client, he stops in.
The initial draw was the foot massage. 1/2 hour for $18. It includes hands and face and feet.
As I walked out the door he handed me $27 for the massage and $5 for a tip. I figured my feet were going to feel great but oh, there was so much more. A cozy chair, calming music and partitioned areas where the masseuse works. No disrobing required.
My friend started in on my head, my face, my shoulders, then off to my feet and over (in the Barcaloungerish which flattens out to a chaise) for my back. I was completely relaxed, joints manipulated and muscles all smushy.
What an unexpected treat. Just as my kiddo was winding down a morning of improv comedy exercises, I was winding down from winding down.
Don't tell my dear, but I might make that drive again. Foot Inspiration, who knew?
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