Crawling through the grime of the city that dries me up until its flaking off my skin.
Up to my ears in noise and commuting – screaming patience to myself on the trains as they rumble through the tunnels, rocking back and forth as they slowly make their way to where I need to be. Routines and clockwork – tick tick ticking away.
No time to do anything but what has been thought about and planned.
16 hour day yesterday, today, tomorrow . . . everyday.
Calling the caterer . … flourist . . . seemstress. . . . cleaning the house. . . . cleaning the house again. . . . showing the house . . . advertising the house . . . looking for a house . . . returning more wedding phone calls . . . sending mass emails for chamber orchestra . .. studying for history tests. . . gigs that pay measly bucks but its always such good music I can’t say no. Concerts at the Lincoln center as the cold wind whips across my face - running its fingers through my hair mockingly.
I’ve been to the pet store twice now in an effort to buy something to keep me company while he is away for 10 days – both times images of moving three times in the next 6 months leave me empty handed.
But I could get two birds for $20!
“You don’t even really want a bird”, Adam says. But he is leaving on a cruise today – he doesn’t need someone to sing to him in the mornings. I am here in New York, and wouldn’t mind a little singing.
A warm day in a sunny car with the windows down calls to me – haunts my dreams. I turn my face away reluctantly. Brent is swinging the golf club on fields of green. I put my headphones on and turn up the music – flooding my mind with thoughts on being supportive and enduring the long days.
I miss being missed.
So today I allowed myself an hour. I called the most indulging place on earth – the spa. I arranged for an appointment. $110 and 65 minutes later I emerged a new person. Can anyone even begin to think of anything better than a good day at the spa? It renewed my firm conviction to one day become a certified masseuse, it calmed the lonely energy, rejuvenated my weighty soul and gave me every reason to smile. I don’t even care that it was ridiculously expensive – worth every dime. Is there anything as great as mango exfoliation and an oatmeal mask on a bitter cold gray NY day when everyone you know is skiing or sun bathing and you feel like somehow you are stuck in a bubble that only knows work?
Does this make me high maintenance?
I don’t think so – even the hippiest of granolas enjoy earthy masks to rejuvenate their vibes.
So let it be known – we all deserve a day at the spa. My advice: indulge. ;)