Yesterday at work, I found my whole body aching and feeling stiff. I tried walking, sitting, standing, and doing some stretches on my calves, but nothing was working.
I decided to call a spa
downtown that I'd been to once before. I was able to get an appointment for an hour after I got off of work. (I normally wouldn't promote going to a spa as I'd prefer to support my massage therapist friends, but I knew I would not be able to see any of them RIGHT AWAY.)

First I checked in (after realizing that they'd made my appointment under my maiden name - which I haven't had in three years - odd) and sat in a lovely chaise chair while a very attractive (gay),blonde, Scandinavian (God) massaged and bathed my feet! When he finished, he brought me some pregnancy tea and a hot Bucky pillow for my shoulders. My appointment could have ended there and I would have been one happy woman.
After a few minutes of solitude I was led to the shower room where I could soak shortly under an overhead shower and showers from the sides. It's doubtful a short person designed the shower as the side showers that aim to release tension by hitting the back of your neck, solar plexus, and lower lumbar area instead got me square in the eye. But it was still so blissful to have a nice relaxing shower before my massage I didn't really mind.
I came out of the shower, met my practitioner and received an awesome massage. I was in the side-lying position again, which I expected, but she worked different areas than the student I worked with a few weeks ago. And she wasn't afraid to go deeply working her elbow into a few choice tough areas that I didn't know I had. Even as a massage therapist, I forget sometimes how detached we can be from our bodies.
It was quite self-indulgent of me and I feel a tiny bit guilty about it. However, I felt so amazing when I came home. I was pampered and made to feel, well, deserving of a ridiculously overpriced massage. I loved every minute of my experience.