I told the receptionist that I was there last the night before. Is it okay to have a massage for two consecutive days? Opo, okay na okay lang yun, sir... Yeah right. I could see pesos signs in her eyes. But I wanted to relax, specifically to get into relaxing mood towards slumberland without the introductory twists and turns caused by hyperactive problematizing mind. I had several options: eat comfort food, go out drinking and get half-blind-drunk, or this, my newest discovery just a few establishments away from my house, a massage therapy clinic, service worth 200 bucks (being published as 199 but would you really raise hell for them not having a peso as change?). I didn't have enough cash to get all the comfort food I wanted. The drinking prospect wasn't really attractive either - alcohol hangover day after? No thanks. So it was down to this: another rub down of "aromatic" oils, a masseur jujitsuing one's road-weary, aching muscles (I was about to say musculature, which while technically true, connotatively it sounded wrong).
I went to Lucena for a meeting with project partners, just to see together if we're doing alright for the Global Fund round three, phase two. The project manager was there; I got the opportunity to talk to her about some other preponderances. The whole-day meeting was okay, but the off-line tete-a-tete was mind agonizing. For this, I had to leave Manila just after sunrise. Then, I had to race back to Manila for an 8pm meeting with the Board. More pressing concerns. The night before, I went in for a massage session thinking it would be best for me to feel relaxed before I take the harrowing prospects of another major road trip day. Well, it seemed to work for awhile, until day's end (which was few minutes before midnight).
The massage session last night was crappy, compared to the previous sessions I had. I thought the masseur was too young (but definitely up the alley of my dear friend Macy in the looks department - mental note: gotta tell him this - no hanky-panky allegedly welcome in the establishment though). I thought he had smaller hands, considering my sizable "bodaciousness." Or maybe because the previous sessions were both handled by this masseur who had the right tactics to "manhandle" me, just the way I like it... uh-oh, that sounded wrong again... hee-hee, at least I could get some reader interest with all this subtle innuendo... hmmm, I've heard of this phrase in a song before...
In fairness, the massage still worked its charm. While it didn't do anything to prevent my mind from thinking of those baffling, overwhelming scenarios now becoming a mainstay of my 2007 professional life, at least, I didn't end up getting frustrated with futile attempts at sleep. My mind drifted off... concerns beautifully fading out to nothingness... and then all peace of slumber. Woke up slowly - luxuriantly? - today, until I recalled a lingering dream image. Good thing I just bought a second-hand book on dream imagery from Book Sale a week ago. Looked it up. I didn't like the conjecture. I'd be damned if I'd add wondering what it all meant over all other thoughts. Dedma.
Maybe I need more time to relax my mind. I don't think the massage clinic can help me with that. My alter-ego's kinda chiding me with getting a shrink. Is there one worth 199? I won't bother with the one-peso change. In absence of attractive choices, I blog. Nothing to detail about work, just things of relatively superfluous significance, like getting a massage. [End of session.]
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