happinessoverhaul

Still don't know nothing.

How was that for a cliff hanger, huh? I received emails (feel free to leave comments, it’s not scary) asking me what happened at the psychic. Well, here it is.

I went with my friend Jennifer. We were running late and joked about it. “He’s psychic, he already knows we’ll be late”. Yes, one makes lame jokes when one is nervous.

A tall, dark man with a friendly face opened the door. He led us through a tiny hall into a small waiting room. He whispered and rushed us through the instructions. Apparently we had mixed up the times. We weren’t late. We were 20 minutes early and interrupting somebody’s session. He was very friendly about it and returned to his client. So we set there, in the small waiting room, staring at the dark red walls, completely covered with African masks. Incense were burning, new age music was playing. We waited. We giggled. I still didn’t know what two questions to ask at the end.

I'm going to get ALL the answers tomorrow! But I forgot the questions.

Tomorrow I am seeing a psychic. I’ve only seen psychics a few times in my life. To be honest: always when I was feeling messed up insecure about my life at that point in time. When things are going smooth, I don't even THINK about psychics. I just go on being happy go lucky. But there are moments in life when a girl needs to hear that all will be well and your mom saying over the phone that 'this too shall pass' isn't quite cutting it.

I secretly think that psychics are for lazy people. Like me. After all, aren’t we told that we hold ALL the answers in our own heart? But, djeez, how much meditation can I do before I pick up on any signals from 'above'? I don't even know if God is hearing me these days. Let alone that I would hear answers back from angels, spirit guides, the Universe or my deceased cat. I don’t even have prophetic dreams, unless the naked gardener has a symbolic meaning?