Spa treatments turn out to not be my strong suit.
I’ve spent a long time, normally on a revision break with Jen and the others, openly daydreaming about all the relaxing, luxurious things we would enjoy once we were out of the exam pit.
I once longed for strong hands rubbing me up and down. Massaging my neck, relieving all the tension that hunching over books caused. Jen wished for someone to work her over-rigid forearms and fingers. Oils. Slippery caresses melting us into jelly. Husky voices, feeding grapes. The whole fantasy.
Sadly even the most luxurious spa on the planet can’t make me comfortable with being pummelled by a stranger. The scent of eucalyptus and essential oils made me gag. I saw sweaty half-naked bodies and immediately wished I could untouch every surface.
Maybe it’s
