Here's a little story for you....
To fulfil my gazillion new year's resolutions, I thought I'd treat my body a bit better and to do so, have booked in regular massages.
I was feeling a little worse for wear last week, so on Wednesday I was delighted when I remembered I had a massage booked.
This was at 5.15pm, after work. Also realising I was overdue for a haircut, I craftily booked an appointment for 7pm, which would allow me a 15 minute buffer of getting between my locations...in heavy rain.
Truth be told, it wasn't so much the massage I was excited about, it was more so the scalp massage that would follow at the hairdresser's.
When I got to the hairdressing salon, after the massage, I was marinating in oil and smelt like an incense stick.
The hairdresser asked: "so..what are we doing today?"
While I was saying: "Oh just a trim would be great"...I was really thinking..."WASH MY HAIR DAMMIT...PLEASE WASH MY HAIR!"
When she pulled up a piece of hair and it stood by itself, she had no choice but to say, "So, we better wash your hair then!"
I answered nonchalantly, "yeah...that'd be cool...I guess."
Delighted I was going to get a scalp massage (which is probably the best thing since sliced gluten free bread) I practically jogged the two metres to the other side of the salon.
"Just lean your head back..." she said.
CLUNK!!!
Technology has come a long way...you know...iPhones, hovercrafts, transformers (the monster-kind...not the radio kind). So with all that progress, it really makes me wonder....why, oh why, are basins at hairdresser's still so frikkin' uncomfortable!
"How does that feel?" she asked, referring to the water temperature.
"Like a ceramic neck brace," I didn't reply, referring to the basin.
The many towels never soften impact.
Feeling a bit zoned out from the multitude of massages in the space of two hours and having the massage undone by an uncomfy sink, I drove the 100m to my house ready to cook dinner (I live really close to a hairdressing salon so really have no excuse for regularly having untamed hair).
"WOW...I am so relaxed," I said sarcastically to myself.
Actually, I'm being unfair, I had a nice time at the hairdresser's. I was the only person there and the hairdresser didn't ask me about my work, life, how I spent my day or what I was doing on the weekend. It was awesome, and unheard of.
What happened next was the unfortunate part of my evening.
I was really hungry. My housemates had already used the main frying pan of the household. I wasn't sure whether it was particularly clean. So, I did what anyone else would have done, who'd just had two massages, was tired, hungry, lethargic, and feeling an onslaught of tonsillitis, plus a tender neck.
I picked up the frying pan to be about forehead level to see if it was clean, plus to see if the food previously cooked in it smelt like it would infuse my meal with something offensive.
As I did, the top part of the frying pan outbalanced the bottom half. The whole thing tilted and the top rim picked up speed upon its descent.
BANG!
Right in the ridge of the nose.
"NOW I'm relaxed...if not unconscious."
To fulfil my gazillion new year's resolutions, I thought I'd treat my body a bit better and to do so, have booked in regular massages.
I was feeling a little worse for wear last week, so on Wednesday I was delighted when I remembered I had a massage booked.
This was at 5.15pm, after work. Also realising I was overdue for a haircut, I craftily booked an appointment for 7pm, which would allow me a 15 minute buffer of getting between my locations...in heavy rain.
Truth be told, it wasn't so much the massage I was excited about, it was more so the scalp massage that would follow at the hairdresser's.
When I got to the hairdressing salon, after the massage, I was marinating in oil and smelt like an incense stick.
The hairdresser asked: "so..what are we doing today?"
While I was saying: "Oh just a trim would be great"...I was really thinking..."WASH MY HAIR DAMMIT...PLEASE WASH MY HAIR!"
When she pulled up a piece of hair and it stood by itself, she had no choice but to say, "So, we better wash your hair then!"
I answered nonchalantly, "yeah...that'd be cool...I guess."
Delighted I was going to get a scalp massage (which is probably the best thing since sliced gluten free bread) I practically jogged the two metres to the other side of the salon.
"Just lean your head back..." she said.
CLUNK!!!
Technology has come a long way...you know...iPhones, hovercrafts, transformers (the monster-kind...not the radio kind). So with all that progress, it really makes me wonder....why, oh why, are basins at hairdresser's still so frikkin' uncomfortable!
"How does that feel?" she asked, referring to the water temperature.
"Like a ceramic neck brace," I didn't reply, referring to the basin.
The many towels never soften impact.
Feeling a bit zoned out from the multitude of massages in the space of two hours and having the massage undone by an uncomfy sink, I drove the 100m to my house ready to cook dinner (I live really close to a hairdressing salon so really have no excuse for regularly having untamed hair).
"WOW...I am so relaxed," I said sarcastically to myself.
Actually, I'm being unfair, I had a nice time at the hairdresser's. I was the only person there and the hairdresser didn't ask me about my work, life, how I spent my day or what I was doing on the weekend. It was awesome, and unheard of.
What happened next was the unfortunate part of my evening.
I was really hungry. My housemates had already used the main frying pan of the household. I wasn't sure whether it was particularly clean. So, I did what anyone else would have done, who'd just had two massages, was tired, hungry, lethargic, and feeling an onslaught of tonsillitis, plus a tender neck.
I picked up the frying pan to be about forehead level to see if it was clean, plus to see if the food previously cooked in it smelt like it would infuse my meal with something offensive.
As I did, the top part of the frying pan outbalanced the bottom half. The whole thing tilted and the top rim picked up speed upon its descent.
BANG!
Right in the ridge of the nose.
"NOW I'm relaxed...if not unconscious."
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