Monday is a funny day. I think it gets a bum wrap some times. Everyone likes the weekend and it’s free time, but most everyone thinks Monday is the bad guy. Always showing up before we are done playing and demanding that we ‘get back to work.’
In the summer, the days all tend to blur together. We have check points now and then that remind us what day it is, but mostly we just free float. My son Ben had quite a melt down Saturday night when I informed him it was going to be Sunday the next day. He was flat out angry that it wasn’t already Sunday. When we got home he told me, through his tears of frustration, that it was just too hard keeping track of the days of the week without someone checking off the days on a calendar for him. I told him he could do it himself on our calendar, but I’m pretty sure he thinks it is above his pay grade to have that responsibility.
Speaking of pay grades, I’d like to publicly thank the nail technician that gave me a pedicure today. I don’t get those very often so it was a real treat to go with my friend today and get a bit pampered. At least, that is what I was hoping for. As I drove to the salon, I envisioned hot rocks being rubbed on my gym sore calves by Jacki Chan. But it was not meant to be. Instead, a very ‘nice’ oriental lady scrubbed my sore feet to new born baby skin luster, and managed to get soap, salt, and surely some other ghastly substance into the slight scratch I had on the top of my foot. I had actually forgotten about this ‘scratch’ because it was so small. As soon as it was forcibly filled with the above ingredients I remembered it and it grew 100 times bigger. As did the heretofore unknown scratch on my knee.
As I writhed (love that word) in pain and tried to wipe the stinging acids from my now open wounds, the ‘sweet’ little oriental lady asked me what was wrong. I told her about my scratches and she said , “Oh! Here!” And sprayed me with what I ASSuMEd was water. As the stinging did not calm but rather started to grow exponentially, I asked what she had sprayed. “Acohol.” She said it in such a way that I felt foolish to even ask. Of course, I always spray ALCHOL on my wounds. It makes them feel so much…oh, what’s the word? Oh yeah, WORSE!!
Can I just say…..It has been about seven or eight hours since the incident at the salon and my scratch on my knee is swollen and not happy, still. The REALLY creepy thing is….whilst we were all sitting there getting some sort of ‘nail’ work done, the television was turned to The Doctors.A show I never watch unless Brian tells me about something worth while. On this particular episode, the ‘doctors’ were talking about how a woman contracted Hepititus B at a nail salon from dirty utensils.
All of the women in the ‘joint’ looked around at each other …..at first we were surprised, then annoyed…and then worried. And then we all took turns looking at our fabulous nails and ….. we asked them to turn the channel. If I’m gonna get HB, at least my toe nails will rock! Cause I said so.