...So there I was, with my fists jammed into the small of my back to support my lower spine while bending my middle spine, and I realized there was all this skin hanging off my back. Me being me, I couldn't quite resist grabbing a handful of this stuff and just kind of squishing it around in my fingers...
Where was I now? Let me back up.
I worked again last night. Eight or nine hours. This morning my husband woke me up with coffee and helped me build a little nest on the couch. I didn't want to move. My muscles are all sore.
I got a ton more stretching done. Lots of middle back work, and that was mostly because I kept shoving my fists into the curve produced by my lower back and supporting that while trying to focus on the area of my rib cage.
I'm sure I made a weird sight, nearly bent in half in the wrong direction, taking careful breaths to pull my ribs up and apart, and allow my upper and middle back to relax and curve downward.
Just ordered a softball to shove into that gap so I can protect my lower spine from stress while working on my upper body. Excited to get my hands on that. I'd like to do some extreme contortions onstage. People seem to be impressed by them and they tip me for it, not because it's particularly sexy, but because they've never seen anything quite like it before.
Didn't work on my pole-assisted one-armed handstand. Forgot to for the first half of the night. By the second half of the night I just didn't care much. I spent the first four hours or so without much money. I only managed to sell one dance, and I even asked the floor guy how much I'd owe for the night so I could estimate how much I'd have to pay in next time I came to work.
Then, all of a sudden, one guy bought a dance. Then another. And another. I gave so many dances in a row that I became exhausted and had to go home an hour before closing. (Gee, do I wish that was my complaint every day.)
One of the floor guys asked me if I'd employed any of B's dancing techniques and I told him I probably wouldn't. He told me that was cool. If it wasn't my style, it wasn't my style. He said B likes to rub on guys, but not every girl at the club does. He named a handful of other girls who don't touch guys in private dances, and I felt very encouraged.
It's nice not to feel be alone in something like this. I'll still never win Miss Nude Tennessee, but at least, I'm not the only girl in the whole club who follows the letter of the law.
Today's got a weird feeling to it. Probably because I'm so worn down physically, but I feel so light and airy. I feel intensely peaceful, too.
You'd think it would work differently. People who are tired generally talk about feeling heavy, weighted down. I feel that when I try to move. But just sitting here, meditating and writing, I feel like I could float right up off the couch. Everything is beautiful and magical, and I feel like I am part of it all.
And no, I didn't take any pain meds. LOL.
I really do suspect it's just the exhaustion. All the endorphin from all the muscle pain and stretching. Natural highs anybody? Just make yourself miserable enough, and you'll get there. Yeah, I'm sure that's a drug that'll sell. And yet, from what I've heard drugs always feel unclean in some way or another. Right now I feel like I've been scrubbed inside out and made all shiny and squeaky-clean.
I think I'm going to soak up all this good feeling for a while. Since I'm at it, I might as well add this wonderful floating sensation to the list of stripper pros and cons. Extreme exercise will, occasionally, render extreme rewards.
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