Massaging monologue

Yesterday I had a day spa experience. I walked out of that building with my brows waxed, hair cut and styled (if you consider a two inch tall bump at the back of my head a style then I was all over it), face suitably scrubbed and "aroma-therapied", fingers and toes properly painted, and my body massaged for one full hour.
I had a hard time relaxing for my massage though. There I was, laying on what I can safely describe as something akin to a hydraulic lift with a sheet covering me and my head lifted on a stack of folded towels. The lights were dimmed. Soft music was playing behind me, trying to lull me into a state of relaxation. Colleen started at my feet and worked her way up, massaging me with warm oil in a very rhythmic, precise fashion. And instead of allowing myself to drift off into a state of perpetual bliss my mind decided to go on full alert and take notes.
I should have had my toes done first.
It's a good thing I shaved this morning.
Make a note to apologize for my bony tibias.
Make a note to apologize for there being more of me to massage lately.
Jim should really have this done.
Ow! Ah!
Wow, that hurts.
Wha?! Thank GOD I shaved this morning!
Hey! They really do that karate chop thing!
I didn't expect to get my ass massaged today.
Karate ass chopping, the next Extreme Sport.
Ooooh, work that knot out.
There's another one.
I wonder if she's going to tell me where I carry all of my tension.
"I hope you enjoyed your massage today, Elizabeth", Colleen said to me in her smooth, relaxed voice. It had been an hour already?
My mind was on overdrive but at least my body felt pretty damned good.