Daydreaming Is Good

by admin

Daydreaming Is Good

Come on, you can’t be late. Maybe I should have gotten to the gym a little earlier. Yeah ok, and maybe I should have not eaten that mango mousse for dessert either. Yes, I am finally on the treadmill and it feels great. This will be my third 5K this week. I have this goal, you know; it kinda goes like this. Started at fifty-six minutes and plan to end with my final 5K at thirty-eight minutes. My husband says it’s a good goal but he really doesn’t sound convincing.

I finish this 5K at fifty minutes and seven seconds and I am very happy with myself. As I step off the treadmill, I wonder if I turned on the clothes dryer and if I remembered to put out the trash. I hurry home only to discover I was just adding more stress to my life because I did both. I jump into the shower and realize I forgot about the facial I scheduled for at 10 a.m. No, I don’t live a luxurious life. I just figured I would treat myself to a facial vice the usual pedicure. I am escorted through the relaxation area and into my spa room. My room is called “lily” and it exudes a luxurious thai ambiance. My therapist has been trained at the renowned Silvalai Spa in Thailand. For treatments and bookings please refer to our menu.

Ok, you caught me: I’m reading her info on the spa menu located in the room. My therapist is named “Som.” She is a very young petite woman. Som asks me to undress as she hands me a towel. I’m hesitant for a brief second and then say to myself you know she does this for a living. So I start to undress and Som quickly covers her face and says “Oh no, undress there” as she puts to a door I failed to see labeled “dressing room.” Yes, I now feel like a complete idiot.

As soon as my facial begins, I immediately begin to relax. Well that’s not entirely true; I kinda fidget a bit. But I do eventually relax and my mind wonders. I am Edith and I am fifty-four years old. My father Rosario Saldana was a hardworking man you can tell by just looking at his rough callous hands. Most would say we lived a privileged life but looks can be very deceiving. My mother Maria is a very kind and loving mother. She cares for us eight children with ease, but if you look closely, you can see she wears her worries on her face. I am always told I am identical to my mother and that makes me very happy. I married at a young age fourteen to be exact. I had my first child at the age of twenty and my second at twenty-three.

My first husband is a womanizer. I say “is” because I’m sure he still lives that life. He left me right after my second daughter was born. There is really no need to be sad for me the way I look at it he left me the very first day I met him. Like most single mothers I struggled to give my girls a better life. I was eventually hired by this hotel franchise that not only provided me a job but also for the first time medical and dental. In order for me to make good money I had to make some sacrifices this included sending my girls to boarding school. This is and was the only way I knew how to survive. I quickly settled into working seven days a week and starting my life again. One day on my way home from work I met a young man named Roy who was eighteen years old. He asked me if I knew a man by the name of Henry Escalante and that he was trying to find work. I told him it was his lucky day because the man he was looking for was my boss. I give Roy directions and went home. The next day Roy was waiting for me at my work entrance to walk me home. He said he wanted to thank me and that his family wanted to thank me. I told him I had done nothing but show him where to make contact with the man he was seeking. As we walked he spoke of his work day and his dreams of success. This went on for a year until one day he thanked me for listening to his woes and said he was going home to Mexico to find a wife. Roy said his family was pressuring him to marry. I did not see Roy for a whole year. On my thirty-second birthday, I was surprised to see Roy waiting to walk me home. As we walked, he told me about his parents, the women he encountered and the sadness he felt. Roy then asked me if I thought of him this past year. I told him I often did and always wished him well. He told me he would be most happy sharing his life with me. That was twenty two years ago. Roy is turning forty-two this year.

Wait a minute! Is this facial peel suppose to burn and itch?? As I try to sit up, Som starts to quickly remove the peel and says “Madame you did not say you were allergic to herbs.” The spa nurse gives a look over saying, “Beverly you will be just fine.” I raise myself and look into the spa mirror and laugh. Besides the redness and swelling, I think I look pretty good. On my drive home, I can’t help but worry if I mailed off the electric bill. What about the iron! Did I even use the iron today? No worries. Life is good!