A good facial is a surefire way to unwind, get pampered, and detoxify your entire body. But while most spas and facialists work in tandem to ensure the soft lights, soothing music, sweet smells, and gentle massaging will create a unique and relaxed experience, there’s a good chance that no matter how serene the setting, your mind is likely to wander.
So the next time you’re face-up on the table, know that if you’re thinking about having to go to the bathroom or wondering whether you’re being judged (you’re not), you’re not alone.
Read on for the 10 oh-so-relatable stages of getting a facial.
Should I make conversation?
Do I let this pass peacefully and quietly, or is it rude to not initiate small talk? Will talking mess up the facial? Can I move my face while this is happening?
I need this scent in my house.
How can a scent possibly smell life-affirming? What is this, a patchouli candle? I hope this place has a gift shop.
This is the most relaxing music ever.
This background music sounds like Mother Nature singing just for me. Where did they even find music this soothing? I wonder if this facialist is on Spotify. And if she is, how do I find out without moving my face and doing the small-talk thing?
Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep.
If I fall asleep, someone’s going to have to wake me up, and that’s going to be uncomfortable for everyone involved. Also, I drool. And snore. And I should probably tip, like, double if I drool on my facialist.
Is my facialist judging me?
I hope I remembered to wash my face properly last night. And this morning. Can she tell I don’t do this often? I wonder what she thinks of my pores. She’s going to know I picked at that zit-that-turned-out-to-be-a-piece-of-chocolate deep down in my chin a week ago.
I swear I take my makeup off every night.
Okay, maybe not every night, but almost every night. There’s no way she can tell I fell asleep with my makeup on that Tuesday night three weeks ago, right?
Was it supposed to feel like that?
I’m sure this facialist knows what she’s doing, but my nose has never been itchier than it is right now. So, am I allowed to scratch it? I don’t want to get product all over my hands or collide with her hard-working hands. I don’t know what to do. Maybe I should let myself fall asleep.
Maybe I could be a facialist…
You know, this job seems pretty soothing. I wonder if being in this serene atmosphere would mean I’d be less likely to feel that career burnout thing my friends are all buzzing about. I don’t really like touching other people, but…maybe?
I have to pee. I definitely have to pee.
Why did I panic-drink all that fruity water in the waiting room? No worries, I just have to not think about peeing—oh god, now I really can’t stop thinking about it.
I should do this once a month. Nah, once a week!
I know I’m *busy,* but honestly, I should remember how vastly this improves my quality of life, not to mention my skin. I feel so chill right now. I’m so calm. That was basically like meditating. I think. Maybe I should also start meditating…
Getting a facial can be a little confusing. Here’s what you need to know about tipping, here’s the facial treatment pros think you should be doing once a week, here’s a rundown on the buzzy cryofacial everyone’s talking about.