Wednesday, 4 January 2012
Once a month I pamper myself with massage. And every time, while she is working on the tiniest muscle hiding behind five other muscles, I ask myself: how does she know? How can she feel what is tense and what needs special attention today? And then I tell myself: because she is a professional. Because she learned how to do it. Just as you once learned how to analyse a literary text and how to recognise all the tiny details that make a literary text a masterpiece and other details that make it a pile of garbage. And just as she knows what the matter is with your muscles and what to do about it, you know what the matter is with a poor essay draft and what to do with it to make it better. So I don'r feel bad because somebody is taking care of my tired body. I am professional in my own way.