Relaxing: going and getting a massage for the first time in a million years five months.

Not quite relaxing: cupping.  It looks like an octopus made out with my back.  (But I’ve chalked it up for research on the 18th century, which is one of my favorite centuries.)

Really not relaxing: coming home to the child who’s watched TV nonstop since I left.  Yeah.  That was primo.

Relaxing: after much screaming, she finally went down for a nap.