Friday, October 15, 2010

touch

I so need an intervention. But do I want it?

I've developed this habit of going for a spa treatment at least once a month. Yes, the operative word is "at least", especially recently when I find myself going every two weeks. And when I say "spa treatment", yes, it may be a euphemism for time to time. ;)

I have no excuses for this new hobby addiction. Sure, I can blame the actual physical aches and pains that I feel because of work stress and/or lack of exercise, but one can argue that there are other places for a treatment. I can also argue that I just want to feel pampered once in a while, especially with a nice body scrub. But again, there are other places for that.

(Then there's the fact that I'm already using it as a mock threat: "Sige kayo, 'pag di pa kayo maka-decide kung saan kakain, magpapa-spa na lang ako!")

I guess part of the appeal is the excitement of what might/will happen afterward. Or it could be as basic as one's need to be... well, touched. Initially I was chalking it up as me wanting to be someone in control, but at the rate that I'm burning hard-earned cash, it does come to a point when I have to ask: who's controlling whom now?

I also wonder what they're thinking, these therapists who had to knead and sometimes fulfill another need every night. The "official" stance (as seen in a handful of movies and documentaries) is that they're all doing it for the money but really now, what are the 2-second thoughts that cross their heads?

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