Like the Truman show. But the no budget, made in a Canadian basement version?
Ok don’t judge but I’m two weeks into being off and I’ve gone totally crazy!!!!!! Well not completely. Nutella and sleep and a small obsession with the Nordic spa.
I have been at the same outdoor spa twice in two weeks.
To be fair the first time booked was a gift to my hubby.
But he shy’d out and sent me instead.
The second time I had booked for myself to write.
It’s only $57 all in for a FULL day of access to a “no talking” zone which is all outdoors on a lake! It’s got saunas and hot and cold pools and hammocks as far as the eye can see.
But they are so fully booked that they only release these single day passes one at a time. Thus the two different days in two different weeks.
My goal was to go and write a lot.
For a full day.
Out of the apartment. Away from the kids asking for goldfish q 5 seconds and my guilt of not doing something with them. Every. Single. Second. Of a beautiful sunny day.
My awesome hubby was all in! ( again 😬😬).
So I went. And wrote a ton while sitting by the water watching two ducks just doing fucking nothing with their lives for two hours but mill about in the water. IN TOTAL SILENCE (yup I’m shouting “total silence” because it was amazing!!!!).
And so I decided to take an hour break from writing. Grab some water, and move about and ended up finding these amazing wooden lounge chairs in the woods (they have mosquito killers so no bugs!).
They were padded with yoga mats and so so comfy. So I lay down, in my bathrobe (yup I robed it up!) pulled it up over my head and drifted off to the sound of the wind and the warmth of the sun on my body.
Then I heard a woman’s voice.
And it kept on talking.
Despite the no talking policy.
So I sat up and looked at where it was coming from.
A platform like mine. But in the middle of what I now recognized to be a circle of platforms in the woods.
I thought they were just other lounging spots in this awesome outdoor lounge.
It’s a yoga class and I’m frigging sleeping in the middle of it.
So I spring up completely unprepared in every way possible.
Trying to fit in totally nonchalantly. Drool firmly wiped from my face.
I Shrug off my gigantic mom robe and proceed to do yoga in the most inappropriate bathing suit of all time. One of the ones you buy online and it’s one sized fits none, but you’ve paid your $20 amd there’s no turning back.
Under a thick robe, or laying solo on a hammock my bathing suit was incognito. But robe off, and now doing fucking downward dog with ‘Deborah’ coming in hot right behind me and ‘Patricia’ directly in front of me, my steal of an online purchase was:
Letting.
Me.
Down.
Let’s say it’s nice for the pool side if you’re feeling adventurous. Quite low cut, holding breast feeding boob a) which is a different size then breastfeeding boob b) barely back with its thin top over the neck bit-y thingy piece. In a thin layer of, what on-line looks like material, but in person looks like rice paper.
And she’s saying things like “bend the knee and then lift directly up into the air”.
None of my body goes directly up into the air.
None of it.
Like the last time I tried, I heard my hip audibly say “no”.
And I do love yoga, but it’s been a while.
A long long while.
And for everyone else it’s clearly only been since this morning.
So we are leaning over, and bending backward. And my bathing suit is actually entering orifices unintentionally while I stretch. And I know Debbie can see my shaving rash, cause I can see the inside of Patricia’s soul in front of me.
And the sun is shining behind us, and I’m so self conscious of the material being see-through along my bum line, that I’m already practicing a formal apology to anyone who might have had to glimpse it.
And I really have to pee, and there’s this fold yourself in half move, and there’s pubes everywhere (because again I thought “solo in a bathrobe all day”, and who has the time?.), and my bladder is willing itself not to do an “oops” in the middle of child pose.
So it lasts forever. And I’m feeling super boss for making it through. Swimsuit, minus one boob protector lost in the process (and on the forest floor for all to see), intact!
Go to the Nordic spa. Live your best life. Have no one talk to you. Read a book. Drink the wine.
Do not sit in the yoga circle though unless you fucking mean it.