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May 25, 2007
Getting the Ugly Out
Last night I had a dream so terrible, so absolutely frightening, that I would have immediately called up a therapist (or possibly checked myself into a mental hospital) had I not already been late for a meeting. It was like a horror movie in my head, but so much worse because it contained variations and revulsions I had never seen or heard of before. Although completely repulsive from every angle, the most horrifying aspect of this dream was that it all came from inside my own head. I had no idea I was capable of producing such atrocities.
I really did almost have to do something drastic, but there were obligations to be fulfilled and tasks to be completed, and so I went about my day with a dirty feeling inside. And as much as my attention was captured by the work in front of me, I just couldn't shake the nasty impression that I was aberrant in some way, that something ugly was prepared to jump out at any moment.
It wasn't the greatest day. And so I coped the only was I knew how, with obscenely expensive spa treatments. The spa attached to this hotel is like a paradise—people proffer fresh glasses of champagne at every turn, the steam room is specially prepared to be piping hot just at the time you're ready to step inside, the ladies room is awash with gentle lighting, enormous terrycloth robes, complimentary beauty products, and an overwhelming feeling of peace and calm.
Along with a treatment comes complimentary use of the sauna and steam room, an opportunity to sit in the lounge and watch the sunset, snack on some dried fruit, sip some champagne, and read a magazine. The treatments themselves are fabulous, and even though a facial and massage totaled more than half a month's mortgage payment, they were worth every Canadian penny. Because if I can't address the ugly lurking on the inside, I might as well be pretty on the outside.
