My trip to Argentina, Chile, and optional Uruguay is LIVE and ready for booking! Here’s the link with all the info…get ready to eat lots of grass-fed meat, drink Malbec, and gaze at the Andes! Leave any questions in the comments and I’ll get back to you asap! Hope you can join us!
Lying prone on the PT table today, I tried to breathe, relax and focus as Daria, my all-business, no bullshit Russian therapist worked her stern, Soviet-style magic on my mangled spinal nerves for my final visit of the week. As she kneaded and prodded and bent my legs at angles, she asked me a question. A question unrelated to my pain or stiffness or sleep habits, which have become her routine questions. We usually chat, she’s fairly forthcoming in her Russian way, slightly guarded and skeptical of things, but unusually open about her life. We’ve gotten to know each other, in our very intimate yet temporary relationship, but she doesn’t ask me much outside of assessing my physical state. Pain, stiffness, sleep. Assess, move on.
I had only just revealed to her about my second life as an influencer (a term I’ve come to despise and avoid, preferring “content creator” instead) in the previous visit. She’s not a fan of social media and doesn’t follow me, and she knew I did something with food and teaching, but not that I’m a huge internet superstar. If she was impressed, her tone didn’t betray it.
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