Side Note: Hard work for me is taking a break from surfing perezhilton.com to (insert work task) for 5 minutes
So, they bring in this "massagers" - this is what they called them in the company email. Hello?! They're called Masseuses! A "massager" is that scandalous contraption ladies keep in their night stand. In retrospect, this makes that email magical and amazing and not so moronic after all. HA!
So, I go in for my little chair massage. Please note- they have 2 people going at once so you're in there with a co-worker. I whisper to the MASSAGER that I'm expecting (I don't know about these things! What if she went all Chuck Norris shiatsu on me?). She says it's no big deal. Yay!
Then...ahem... she starts to talk during my massage. I HATE when massagers talk during massages. Hello? I'm here to zone out. But it gets worse. She wants to talk about my pregnancy. And my fellow worker-bee is like 2 feet away. "I'm trying to be on the down low and you're asking me how many weeks I am? STFU!"
I didn't actually say this cause my Mama raised me right. So I mumble "7 weeks." Then she starts talking about vaginal discharge........