Thursday, March 29, 2007

Ne Worry Pas

The invisible people who know me know that I'm a Lushie.

So, you can imagine my excitement today when the Lush store opened in my city. I visited, and it was indeed a religious experience.

Lately, I've been feeling really crappy. So weak, so tired, anemic, depressed, stressed. I'm sleeping all the time, as much as possible. I've been off work this week, because I can't get my arse out of bed. I am on my second UTI in three weeks, and my doc upped my antibiotic to Cipro, because I've been feeling so much like Anna Nicole lately that I may as well take the same drugs, too.

Which brings me to Ne Worry Pas, which is the name of a bath bomb that I bought today. It's powdery-white with a lavender scent, and it's very simple-looking with the exception of one oddity: it has a hole in it, a "grotto" which is a turquoise blue hole dug into the side of the bomb. When you look in the hole, it seems to go on forever.

Legend has it that you whisper your worries into the grotto, and then toss the bomb in the bathwater and watch your worries fizz away.

So I got in there, covered up as much as I can in my little tub with hot water. I just felt so weak and tired, and I pretty much just sank in and was content to stay there all day. I picked up my Ne Worry Pas, looked in the hole, and whispered thusly:

"I'm scared about my health. Maybe I have bladder cancer or something. Maybe my kidneys are shutting down. What if I'm dying, and I'm so tired because the life is slowly slipping from my body? Then there's the money. I'll always have room for you, my darling Lush, but I'm at that point again where I'm going to get nailed on income tax and I have to pay down my line of credit and I have to get a new roof on the house, and it's only a matter of time before the furnace has to be replaced. And don't even get me started about work! OMG the mess that I've inherited is so embarrassing and so fucking be stuck with all that because they turned a blind eye to that useless twit. And the payoff just isn't there, for the amount of time and effort that I put into it. I don't think I've ever complained about being "underpaid" for the work I do. But now I feel that I should be getting danger pay for all the BS I have to put up with, and then there's the politics...oh god, don't get me started! Then there's girl kittens social insurance number and stuff that she needs to get a job this summer and I keep forgetting to get it because I'm so forgetful these days. And OMG the parking tickets! I'm afraid to go renew my license."

I paused, thinking, wondering if there's anything else I needed to add. Then I decided that I'd whispered just about everything for now, and *plopped* the bomb into the water.

It fizzled and bounced and bubbled, and the water turned a milky white and the glorious scent of lavender and essential oil goodness filled the room. I closed my eyes and sank back into the tub, imagining my worries dissolving like that little ball of wonder...and then I realized...

Um, so now I'm, like, immersed in my worries.