Ahhhh....

The tortoise bought me quite possibly the most amazing gift ever for my birthday in January... a massage.  I am such a sucker for massages and I absolutely positively will accept any and all offers for one.  Needless to say, I was pumped when I received this gift.

So, in January I headed in for my amazing deep tissue massage.  It was awesome, and afterwards I was wakling around in a haze.  Blame it on my haziness or on my extreme relaxation (I blame it on my Hare-like impulsivity)  but I may or may not have (I did) signed up for a monthly massage membeship after that initial massage.  Because the tortoise loves me and is a fabulous person he agreed to let me keep it.  It's actually a good deal, and it allows me to enjoy a massage every month which wipes away all the stress that I could ever accumulate.

Last night, I headed in for my April massage.  As I was in the middle of the process, I realized that I go through the same thought process every single time I go in.  I always opt for the deep tissue massage to relieve the most tension.  As I am getting poked, prodded, and pounded I am ALWAYS thinking, "Next time, I am going for a Swedish massage.  A more relaxing, less intense, swedish massage.  This hurts."  Then inevitably, I feel the tension melt out of my back and my immediate thought is, "Nevermind."

So, I guess there is only one way to really describe my relationship with massages.  We sort of have an abusive relationship.  They hurt so good...