But I have to tell you this.
Today I had a test at school. Sort of the final test – I had to give an instructor a full hour massage, with a bunch of required fancy moves, for a grade. I had to pass to move on to my internship.
I really felt like I gave a bad massage. This test came in the middle of some very, very difficult, painful life changes. I was nervous and preoccupied the entire hour. I was just trying to make it through.
After the session was over, my instructor clothed, then went to her office to fill out some paperwork. I sat taking deep breaths, waiting for the final verdict. She came back in, handed me an official-looking paper. She said, “I’ll let this speak for itself.”
My grade was an astonishingly high 97. Her only comment, written in red across the bottom: “This was one of the best student massages I’ve ever had.”