So I pulled my neck out over the holidays. That was fun. I suffered through many a disfunctional family celebration in sheer agony (both physical and mental). Then I was given a free massage by an in law and - me thinks to meself - what great luck! I book my appointment for a Tues. By the time Tues rolled around I was no longer in pain - but I figured it would still be nice to have a massage - right? So off I go. The massage therapist is a waif. I think to myself - exactly how effective can that little wisp be? I think to soon. She pummels me from head to toe - thoroughly and I am oiled to slippery perfection. Off I go home, bruises and all.
I retire to bed that evening thinking how nice it was to have had a free beating (I mean, massage) and as I drift off to sleep I recall a vague itching sensation on my arms and back. Soon I am off in dreamland only to awake the next morning and dash into the washroom to shower. I am thinking three things instead of my usual two 1.COFFEE 2. PEE and this morning 3. ITCHY. I peel back my clothing to reveal.... my entire person covered in an ugly (DID I MENTION ITCHY) red rash. Apparently I am the one human on planet earth allergic to Holly Oil. The therapist did thankfully switch from her old oil that caused many a client to go into anaphalactic (sp?) shock. Thank god for that - since as my luck was running I am sure to have been one of them. Moral of the story - nothing is ever free.
My rash persists, but I have been assured that it will not kill me if it hasn't already (comforting).
I'm off to the dollar store to buy several of those wooden back scratchers from Asia. I have an idea that if I glue several together I can cover more ground.
This sucks.
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1 comment:
You are way too funny.
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