When did I become uncool?

So yesterday, at the last minute, I decided to book at massage at Lucinda's.....in my own mind, I was thinking, what a great way to de-stress....between work, school and Sydnie stuff, I'm mentally tapped out. It didn't take me long to justify the $70 - to me, it was money well spent.

When the massage therapist approaches me, I immediately begin to self deprecate. My hair looks bad, my thighs are fat, on and on.......so I follow Miss 20 something with the rock star hair upstairs and get settled. As she begins the massage, my worries start to melt away and I think, ok, I can deal. Well, then she gets to my legs, and as she tucks that little blanket under one, I think "OMG, I'm wearing the sensible skivvies today!!" Although I'm horrified that this 20 year old chicklet is going to see my pink Hanes Her Way, I realize there is nothing I can do - I want to explain......to justify why, at not even 30 years old, I am sporting cotton briefs. But what do you say? It's not like in the midst of the chimes and waterfalls you can just sit upright to mention it.

I am now completely worked up. I am convinced that she is snickering, knowing that my face is bright red, but also knowing I'm not going to open my eyes to peek and see if she really is snickering, I lay there. Then I worry; when did I last shave my legs? are my legs looking all cottage-cheesy when she's pushing on them? when did I become uncool???

Then it gets worse. As she's pushing and pulling on my back muscles, my belly starts to rumble. "What is that?" I wonder......"oh dear Jesus, I ate bean soup and a burrito for lunch." The voices in my head begin to taunt me and I'm starting to feel a bit mental. "You're wearing cotton briefs.....and you've got gas.......YOU are so lame......." I can't help but wonder, yet again, what has happened to me. I swear this wouldn't have happened when I was 25.

Around the time that I manage to shuush the voices and pull myself together, the massage is over - just like that. My rock star massage therapist tells me to get up and get dressed and to meet her outside the door. As I open the door, I see her hide a smirk....."now what?" I think......so I glance in the mirror and see the imprint from the headrest on my forehead. Great.