Last week I was indulgent and self-absorbed and coated in herbal-scented oils.

I got a massage.

And it was one of the best massages I’ve ever had. I was so relaxed that I fell asleep on the table. Yes, I did, and I’m not one bit embarrassed about it. I am a little embarrassed about the snoring. Just a little, though.

So the massage was amazing, but… (There’s always a but.)

But, according to the massage therapist my muscles are outrageously tight and knotted up. She kindly recommended that I stretch more often and consider frequent massages.

Next, after 80 minutes (80!! Eight-Zero minutes. Mercy.), of having my muscles rubbed into submission, I got a facial. I cannot remember the last time I had a facial, but I think I was pregnant with P, who will be two soon.

The esthetician was trying to be kind, but her disappointment was clear when she asked, “Do you exfoliate weekly, dear?”

Well, I thought I did, but apparently it’s not working. I use this fruit enzyme scrub in the shower a couple times each week, but according to the woman squeezing gunk out of my pores, my scrub is not working. Or I’m possibly doing it wrong. Turns out, I have no idea how to properly rid my face of dead skin cells. Add skincare to the list of stuff I’m messing up.

I gathered from the tut-tuts that my chin congestion rivals that of my cedar-fevered head. This skincare guru then recommended that I consider purchasing some more effective products, and, you guessed it: try to get more frequent facials.

If I’m to follow the guidance I received during my day of indulgence, my periodic trips to the spa need to become once or twice-monthly trips. And I need to invest in some better (read: pricey) products to use at home.

I’m sure these women meant well. Neither one of them was pushy or rude. Well, the esthetician seemed a little dismayed by the state of my chin, but she was mostly kind. On the way home from Me Day, with arms so relaxed and noodly I probably shouldn’t have driven, I had some thoughts:

1. Perhaps I look rich? But who looks rich while wearing the spa-provided robe and sporting oiled-up-crazy-massage hair? Maybe everyone does? It just might be a Great Equalizer Look: when everyone looks the same level of greasy and bed-headed, they all look wealthy.

2. Am I really that pathetic or does everyone get unsolicited advice when they go to the spa? Did the women who pampered me take pity on me, and genuinely want to help? Or do they just spew out advice to everyone they treat?

3. Where can I get a big bucket of money earmarked entirely for personal care? I know it’s incredibly self-indulgent, but I don’t think I care. My face is glowing, people. And my old lady, trick hip has not bothered me in two days. There is no more hitch in my giddy-up.

So I wonder…

:: Do you treat yourself to an indulgent Me Day every once in a while? How often?

:: What’s your best at-home skincare secret?

:: Do you get unsolicited advice from spa personnel? Or do I just look especially helpless?