frying pans and fires
it would seem that i made my exit from the travel gig just in time; since departing i’ve learned from those still captive that the place is to be squeezed into one half with an attempt to sublease the remaining space. of course the owner’s daughter will still have her wedding reception at the four seasons but i digress into tacky bitterness.
since the tender age of twelve i have held what i refer to as a ‘foot job’…on my feet all day and many times well into the night. table waiting, bar tending, hairstyling, retail selling, etc. this last four-year stint was, so far, my first and only ‘butt job.’ all day on my behind in front of at least one computer screen with a telephone headset jammed on my skull.
at first it was a wonderful change. at the end of the day my feet no longer felt as if someone had doused them with kerosene and snapped their zippo to set them aflame. and of course there was the added advantage of having loads of downtime to compose my little short stories, cyber-flirt and get warm and fuzzy with my sweet buddies right here at dl.
now i’m back in the salon and my body is telling me that there are places to ache that i never even knew i had…fortunately my pocket isn’t one of them. the first time i completed one of my famous languid and caressing aromatherapy shampoos and got a crisp jackson for it i knew i was going to be okay. with enough hustle and many more dead presidents i just might have someone rub some of my own pains away, be they in my foot, butt or wherever!
prevention is kinder than destruction. each year over six million healthy dogs, cats, puppies and kittens are killed as surplus. remember: neuter, spay and don't let them stray!