Day 1 (Saturday) The decision.

My tanning package is almost up and I have half a bottle of very expensive lotion in the cupboard. I was thinking, I need to hit the salon.

I picked up a magazine and ironically flipped to yet another article about cancer. It’s not that I maintain an adolescent attitude that “It won’t happen to me.” It’s more “I’ll stop when I’m ready and now is not the time.” That’s when it hit me…sort of. It wasn’t like a ton of bricks, more like the slow trickle of water that eventually splits the stone. I need to stop.

2 weeks ago I went into the salon to go for a tan when the owner cheerfully greeted me and asked “are you here for a service, or just a tan?” To which I replied, “Just a tan,” and went on my merry way.

Now I’m thinking, “Just a tan?” Like it is the most normal thing in the world to slather yourself in lotion and go bake in an oven for 20 minutes. And PAY for it!

I’ll admit, it’s not the cancer that really has me spooked, it’s more superficial than that. It si the not aging gracefully that has me turning in my lotion and goggles.