Massage, Pajamas, Chores (In That Order)

   Back in my community college days, there were a couple of semesters when I had no classes on Fridays.  Back then, my younger sister was still in high school, my dad was at his full-time job, and my mom was at her part-time job until noon.  Which meant I had the house to myself until about 12:15 pm.  

   Privacy didn’t come easily in my childhood home.  We all shared one bathroom.  My sister and I shared one bedroom and one closet.  

   Naturally, I took full advantage of those Fridays.  I treated myself to an unhurried bubble bath.  I brought candles into the bathroom, set up my boom box with one of my bubble-bath-friendly cassette tapes (usually something instrumental), brought my book, and soaked until my skin resembled a raisin.  I didn’t have to worry if I was soaking for too long; there was no one else at home who might be growing impatient with me hogging our bathroom.

   Not teaching means I do have the luxury of having the house to myself while my son is at school and my husband is at work.  But, I don’t indulge in morning bubble baths any more.  Instead, once a month I treat myself to a massage.  They say massage has an abundance of medical benefits including better posture, improved circulation, and lower blood pressure.  I don’t know if that’s true or not.  I do know that my massages leave me feeling relaxed and recharged.  

   I come home after my massage, shower, and spend the rest of the morning in my pajamas.  However, I’m not completely a lady of leisure during this time.  I still have the tasks on my daily to-do list to accomplish.  

   But there’s something so different about emptying the dishwasher, writing bills, and cooking noodles when you’re dressed in your pajamas.