OYM Day 82: A Love Letter To The Spa

I’m trying to think of things I’m excited about, as I feel this list gets shorter the older you get. Or maybe it’s just me. I’d also love to hear what you’re excited about. I’m hoping it’ll get me out of this Sunday slump and set me up for a good week.

Things I’m excited for:

• The puppy trainer coming to evaluate our dog so I can see if she’s a demon or just regular dog.
• A new recipe I’m trying this week.
• Hopefully booking a short trip to California for next month.
• I think I might go buy some new yoga pants from Target.
• A friend is driving cross country and will be visiting late next week.
• My mom will be visiting early next month. I haven’t seen her in 6 months.

So, that’s it. Most things are not immediate, besides yoga pants and a dog evaluation. Now that I write it out, it seems pretty good. It’s just biding time until I hit the different rungs of my excitement ladder.

What I really want is a day off. A whole day, or even 3 hours… of time just for me. I miss days where I would go to the spa and spend the whole day dipping into pools of various temperatures. I’d eat almonds and carry around a book, damp from being transported from sauna to steam room to sauna.

I would wear a simple black one-piece bathing suit, with a low back and high cut on the hip. I would swim laps in the outdoor pool before coming inside to indulge in the high-end atmosphere. I can remember putting a eucalyptus hand towel over my eyes and sinking into the whirlpool, the jets pounding my shoulder blades. I’d try to be conscious of every muscle and then feel my focus melt away like butter. An hour passed.

At my favorite spa, they have an amuse-bouche station. It’s a mirrored wall with little spoons sticking out of it. Each spoon cradles an almond, a date, a walnut, and a dried sliver of apple. No more, no less. You take a spoon, tilt it’s content into your mouth, and place the spoon in a small, leather basket. Mmm, I’m full. Aren’t you?

I used to frequent the spa. By frequent I’d say once a month. I loved the thick, fluffy robes. The sandals that barely fit my feet. The soothing smell of citrus and sandalwood. Sometimes I would get a facial or a massage, but on most occasions I just used the facilities.

“Mrs. Bravo,” they’d say, warmly, handing me a bottle of room temperature water and a hot towel. “Welcome back.”

I loved that they called me Mrs. Bravo. No one ever calls me that. Probably because it’s not my name. It should be, but I keep putting off changing my name for no other reason than: have you been to the social security office lately? It is such a scene.

Before, I would go to the spa, because I was “stressed out.” The level of stress I experience now is about 50–75 times worse. So much worse. I used to always be stressed about my job, or home renovations, or issues with friends or family... Will I ever find the right tile to match the crown molding?! Now I don’t have a job, nor do I have much of a social life. Those things have been replaced with the terrible 2’s and a maniac on 4 legs. My solid 8 hours of sleep a night has turned into 5 and I swear if there weren’t a pandemic happening right now, my face would already be shot up with Botox.

I know it will all be worth it. I should relish each second, not waiting for my happiness to arrive like a train pulling up to a station. All I have is now. I know this. I know.

But still, I need to look forward. To something. Anything…at least right now when the world feels like it’s sinking in a tar pit, to join its ancestors, deeper and deeper into the past.

What are you excited about? What are you looking forward to? Drop a comment below. It’ll make my Monday. Maybe even my week.