Yoga and wine are no longer cutting it. The tension headaches, general body aches and fatigue have gotten the better of me. It hurts to put on eyeshadow. My shoulders and upper back are actually sore to the touch. So, I'm getting a 90-minute, full-body massage tomorrow.
Kick ass, you say? Why the trepidation, you ask? Well, I'll tell you -- for the first time ever, I will be getting a massage from a guy. Well, a guy I'm paying, anyway; a guy who isn't just giving me a half-ass back rub because he wants to fuck me.
(I wonder how much extra he charges for a happy ending.)
Things are kind of looking up at work, though. Maybe. I think things are starting to click. Or that's what my trainer tells me. She thinks I'm doing great, despite what I seem to think. So, yay.
But then I went and brought work home with me tonight. FAIL, Jess. Epic. Fucking. Fail. I am not going down that road again so soon. Thankfully, I had a moment of clarity during yoga and said, "Fuck that noise." Once I finally got home and showered and ate, I played my brand-spanking-new Simpsons Wii game. Score. Well, not really. I am terrible. But it's fun.