Yesterday at about 4PM, I was struck by the realization that I really needed a massage. Between work stress and the physical toll of moving, hell, I even convinced myself I deserved one. Luckily, appointments were available at a respectable venue near work, and I booked an appointment for 7:00.

Now, the ironic thing about me and massages is, I usually spend 75% of the hour fretting over something or another, usually related to the massage, so the purpose of relaxation is somewhat defeated. Last night, for instance, many of the 60 minutes found me worrying about:

1. The unfortunate choice of old black sweaty sandals that morning
2. Whether or not I set the TiVo to record Friends and Survivor at 8
3. If I was making the appropriate amount of small talk with the massage therapist
4. The 2 enchiladas I had for lunch
5. The proper amount to tip for an hour
6. My lack of recollection of actually locking my car
7. The disclaimer I signed before the massage and its many references to "inappropriate behavior" by client or therapist

And so on. I really need to work on this, I think.