Every once in a blue moon it feels delightfully decadent to take a day off from work for wallowing in self indulgence. For me, one of the most blissful ways to treat myself is having a pedicure. In addition to the pampering, a salon pedicure generally lasts me several weeks.
I love the whole pedicure experience – soaking my feet in the warm whirlpool water, reading a book while the massage chair works its magic, basking in the attention given to my much abused dogs that I’ve forced into unnaturally shaped shoes with dagger pointed toes and exaggerated arches perched on 4 inches spike heels. It seems such a luxury to have somebody else wash and massage my feet, to erase the calluses with a pumas stone or razor blade, to cull the ingrown toenail, to paint my nails a vibrant color that will draw attention to my strappy summer sandals.
For some reason, indulging in a pedicure is more pleasurable during the work week – when I know that I would otherwise be toiling away writing 28 page letters nobody really wants to read, or reviewing medical records, or participating in a conference call or attending a mediation. It is the ultimate relaxation and the kindest thing I can do for myself – to care for these wonderful feet that afford me the opportunity to walk, run, hop, stand, balance, dance, jump, climb, run a sewing machine, and drive a standard transmission.
Post a Comment