Scheduling

I warned you I couldn't stop basking. Reveling. Gloating. Whatever.

Here's the thing though. I can't schedule it. I can't call to schedule the spa appointment. I fear that the reality won't measure up to my delicious anticipation. I find myself sitting watching tv
Oh my god did you see last night's WNTW? We were all tearing up.
And by we I mean Stacey, Clinton and I. Sean was on the computer. Encouraging me to watch the show, but not quite being able to do so himself without assaulting his manliness. It was a great show, but if they continue down the weepy path they will spiral into the bottomless crevasse of sappiness that effectively killed that Ty Pennington makeover show for us. Cattiness, education and joy, that's all I want from Stacey and Clinton.

But as I was saying, I'll be watching tv and it will hit me.


I have a credit at a salon. I can book anything I want. Anytime.
My mind reels.

There are literally pages of options.

Aveda Hydrotherm Massage?
Carribean Therapy Mud Wrap?
Elemental Nature Facial for Self-Renewal?
Botanical Skin Resurfacing?
Hair Detoxifying Treatment?
Foot Relieving Treatment and Focus Pedicure?


My mom and Sean have both asked me when I am going to go. I cannot answer. I really want to savor it a bit more.

I guarantee that when I do go, I'll be reporting on the sheer fabulousness of the treatments. Any ideas on how to keep the reality from paling next to the anticipation?