Rehab

So there's rehab for physical injuries (i.e., for a torn MCL and grade 2 sprain of the left knee - I start today). There's rehab for popping pills and drinking like a fish. There's even rehab for Olsen twins-like eating disorders and Britney-inspired psychosis. There SHOULD be a rehab for stupidity - like with finances. Lemme tell ya, I would enroll in that program in a heartbeat. However, this fine facility would have to be located in Hawaii - on the beach. They would have to provide 5-star gourmet meals cooked by the hottest celebri-chef. HD cable tv is a must. 500-count Egyptian cotton sheets - non-negotiable. Tennis courts and swimming pools galore. Rooms stocked with the healthiest of munchies - and Kettle One. Happy hour - every hour. Daily massages, naturally. Mani-pedis and facials - couldn't do without those. Sounds dreamy....Of course, the overall purpose of this program would be to teach fiscal responsibility and economic intelligence - Susie Orman could run the daily group meetings (which would only last 30 minutes every other day, so as not to interfere with horseback-riding and seaweed body wraps). I think I will look into it...

Today my horoscope (I'm a fish - Pisces through and through!) all but told me I should enter into some kind of rehabilitation facility. Well, I'm being dramatic (I have a flair for the drama), but it certainly did not leave me with that hopeful-good-things-are-just-around-the-corner feeling. It reads:
"You may wish that you were on a magical retreat today, quite far away from the noise of your current existence. But then you open your eyes only to contend with the mundane world and your unavoidable responsibilities. Don't waste too much time meandering through fantasy land, for reality is knocking at your door and you'd better answer now."
Wow. Uplifting stuff, eh. Notice the word "retreat" in there? Yeah, I pretty much interpreted that to mean the aforementioned facility on the North Shores of Oahu (that may not exist - YET). I'm not really a dreamer and I certainly never considered myself "meandering through fantasy land." I know what my reality is, I'm not in denial - my personal shortcomings and faults, my financial issues, my inability to open up and trust people (that one is from my therapist). I just refuse to accept it! Actually I think that's precisely the definition of "denial", but oh well...

Well, I'm off to my first rehab session with my knee. My hope is that my physical therapist will miraculously turn out be an incredibly attractive, tall, smart, funny, slightly-scruffy, green-eyed hunk who speaks four languages, has great oral hygiene, volunteers with orphans, reads to the blind, is politically and environmental conscious, plays soccer, drives a jeep, loves football and baseball, eats meat (free-range of course), wears t-shirts, jeans AND suits, slightly resembles Tom Brady (or Brad Pitt) and is single. But honestly -- I'm not meandering through fantasy land.

*UPDATE*
My PT (physical therapist, for the layman) is 100%, totally and completely the OPPOSITE of everything I dreamed he would be. SHE is not the sexy, single Tom Brady look alike I was hoping for. But she is lovely and was very gentle. Although, she said not to expect that next session - it's go time, I believe were her exact words (Am I in some kind of training?!?).