How pathetic is this? Yesterday, the most relaxing moment of my day was when I was lying under harsh fluorescent lights while a masked technician zapped painful beams of electricity into the hair follicles on the most delicate parts of my body with a Yag laser. We talked about men, sex, puppies and pregnancy, while I alternated between whoops of laughter and shrieks of anguish. 
My day yesterday involved a hellish commute, a toddler who swept his entire broccoli-and-pasta dinner off his high chair as soon as I’d set it down, and a much-awaited dress arriving finally arriving in the mail only to be humiliatingly too tight. (Damn you, Urban Outfitters! If you call it a size medium, it should not only fit people size 00 and smaller!!)
So even though my third laser hair removal appointment involved a lot more twitching and “Yowzers!” than the previous two appointments, I have to say it was actually the high point of my day. (Especially when it was over, and the technician applied the refrigerated aloe vera cream….ahhhh.) Of course when I mentioned to the laser-wielding hair removal lady that my appointment with her was my “me time,” she said, “Honey, you need to get out more.”