Money, money, m-o-n-e-y!

I love money. Scratch that, I love, love, money. Nothing makes me happier than getting up in the morning when they issue the paychecks on Friday, logging into my Harris online account, and seeing how much I got for a paycheck before they even give it to me in my hands. I’m the only one from work that I know who does that, though one of my friends saves her cash tips like I do in a hilarious piece of clothing.

If I could be like Scrooge Duck from the cartoon (he’s my money idol) and have a vault with the money in it and basically swim in it daily it’d make my day better. And absolutely start it off with a smile if I swam in my money vault before work. Lo’ and behold, my momma has told me time and time again this is not possible. I still hold out hope I’ll have my odd request filled one of these days.

Even though I do love cash, I tend to save it … a lot. I never buy anything for myself. My shopaholic workers and their whining and complaining about not being able to buy that Gucci bag gets 0 sympathy points from me.

I know how those girls spend their money. They make a chocolate run to our perfectly placed specialty chocolate shop in droves. They get stuff from Panera, Potbelly, ect. on a daily basis. Me? I have the usual suspect for lunch, my Lean Cuisine chicken fettuccine, or the french bread pizza. They may make fun of me for eating the same thing day in and day out but I know how much my little lunch cost. It was $1.98 + tax, and your Panera lunch? Well, that rounds out to be $8 or more every day. I’d like to see who is laughing in the end.

It’s painful to spend what I earn, so I never treat myself. I think it was bred into me by my mom, because she is just like that. She never, ever, does anything really nice for herself. She’ll do all sorts of stuff for the family, and she’ll get things for me, or my brother, but it’s a rare occurence for her to buy something for herself.

So, it becomes this endless cycle of guilt when I need to buy something, or want it, saving, because I live to save, and waiting for the next paycheck. I may not have the designer clothes, or those huge bags where you could fit a baby and small dog in there too, but I’m happy with what I have.

I’ve never been one to be envious of other people. It’s weird, because I don’t know how you can be a jealous/protective person and not be a very envious person at the same. If there’s something I really, really want in life I’ll get it. If not, I’m happy with whatever I have. Of course, like anyone, there are some moments that the green monster pops his ugly head out but most of the time it stays buried away.

I survived the one client I had to massage today. Tomorrow is going to be a test to see if my back goes out and I end up convulsing on the floor. I have 3 clients, it’s a 4 hour day, and my last client is a guy and he’s a deep tissue. I can’t stand deep tissue massages with guys, it takes so much out of me and I’d take a woman requesting a deep tissue any day. Guys just want me to get out my elbow and just beat them up, it takes a lot of energy and strength depending on the guy.

Call me crazy, but I missed working. My client today was this sweet girl who had heard about me from a friend of hers. I never met her before, but she was a pleasure to meet and I could tell a few of her issue areas.

A) She was a hip popper, she put her weight on her left side/leg and her left calf was much more defined than her right. B) I could tell she probably got leg cramps from the definition she had in her legs C) I could guess she might get headaches from her shoulder/neck tension D) She probably wasn’t sitting properly at the computer and was causing lower back pain.

It just puts a smile on my face every time when I finish my work and my client is feeling better. It’s about the only job out there that you get done with a client and they’re happier/less tense then when they came in.

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  1. Thank you for your comment on the archive.

    I have a couple of massage-givers on my blog roll and you may be interested in visiting the grumpy Sledpress or the gardening Magic Hands.

    • Not a problem, I enjoyed reading your posts, especially with the pornography vs. art, which I think is a hard subject to tackle.
      I’ve been trying to find other massage therapists but I don’t know to use that search engine that well. I’ll definitely be sure to check them out.


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