whoronica just left. Two hours of lovely, painful massage. A good massage should hurt just a bit. I haven't looked in the mirror yet to see if I have bruises, but already I can feel my muscles ache. I will sleep well tonight, and tomorrow i will walk like an old man. And I will love it. (For the record, we hung out afterward while she looked through my New Zealand photographs and I regaled her with tales of my exploits in the land of the southern cross.)
Soreness, or the wonder that is massage
I don't plan to delete my LJ (I paid for permanent status, dammit), but this will be the last post. I don't plan to read it anymore, either…
Turns out my insurance is cut off at midnight tonight, not the end of the month. In a way, that's a good thing. Now I'll move my appointment…
A week off, but tomorrow I head to the home office for a week there.