I said “HAVE” not “HAD,” calm down, Chris. And yes, I will FOREVER reference that post when I use the word “dream” in my posts. You’re welcome for the traffic. Which is mostly all from people who read your blog anyway. Dear lord, have I digressed! Where was I?
Oh, that’s right. I have a dream. My dream is to someday be rich enough to hire a masseur to live in my house. Well, he doesn’t have to live there, but if he can just be on call, that would be great.
I’ve had this dream for years now. It would be heavenly. Think about it. Oh Sven (because he has to have a name like that or he’s not going to really just Go To Town on your knots), I’m feeling a little tension in my left shoulder. Be a dear and fix that please. And in would come Sven, with his tool belt of lotions, oils and other comforting things that masseurs use, and he would lay you down on the little table and rub your shoulder and all would be well with the world.
I think about this dream every time I sleep badly. Last night I was too tired to even hang up the phone and fell asleep, on my side, with my phone still laying on the side of my face. SO LAZY. And of course, it freaked me out and I thought I fell asleep talking to Boo and called him back when I woke up and probably made him think that I was losing my mind.
Anyway, so sleeping all wonky on my pillow last night produced a knot at the top of my neck that is the size of Canada. And so I started wishing Sven would come around.
But as I’ve grown, I’ve added other elements to this dream and have decided that I really would like it if Sven came with a full spa team. Facialist, manicurist/pedicurist, the whole deal. All for me. Whenever I snap my fingers sound the alarm blow the air raid siren ask nicely.
I mean really, is that so much to ask?