In about an hour, I'm off to algebra class where I will be taking my first test.
I know the material, I'm just a leetle nervous, since the last time I had math (way back in the eighties), I suffered from severe test anxiety and always bombed my exams.
I believe I'm over it, but a slight fear remains. Well, I guess I'll see, won't I?
In other (massage) news, I had my first client with a full-on, noticeable pup-tent pitched. What made it awkward (for me, at least) was the fact that his wife was receiving a massage less than six feet away.
My client was mostly asleep, so I don't think he realized it (I hope), and wifey had her eyes closed (thank God!).
My colleague J.A., who was massaging her, didn't notice, but he asked me afterwards why I had been staring at him during the head/neck massage!
Duh, I didn't want to look straight ahead and see the "tent", so I had my head turned away!
Today I had the idea of plastic surgery made vividly unappetizing to me, in a very tangible fashion.
I massaged a lady who resembled Frankenstein's monster, at least when she was unclothed.
You know how they display those diagrams in the meat department of grocery stores, the ones that show a cow in profile with the cuts of meat delineated by dotted lines?
That's what my client looked like when I undraped her. Faded and new surgical scars outlining her butt-cheeks, encircling her body just below her waist, streaking down her thighs...ugh!
And her glutes just didn't feel normal to me, either. They felt hard, plastic, and it wasn't the skin. I don't think she had butt implants, I think they did a lift where they shortened the gluteal muscles themselves.
Hey, whatever floats her boat, I guess. But you won't see ME going under the scalpel, that's for sure!