Hey, I need a psychic. What? You are a psychic. Why do you need one? Guess what? I don’t read very well for myself. What I’ve learned is that I am a case of I can’t see the forest for the trees. Also, I’m so much aligned with sensing the larger picture that my own tiny bit of real estate just doesn’t rate all that much importance. At least, that’s what it seems like to me. So, I mostly just go with the flow and allow it all to fall where it may.
Sometimes when I really want something to happen I’ll spend a bit of time on it as if it were a project to cut my teeth manifesting a favorable outcome, but mostly I just sit there watching forensic detective television shows talking to the murdered victims. What am I going to say? Nothing. I have nice chats with them in my head. They’re not hurting anymore. But, danged I wish my husband didn’t like to watch them while we’re eating dinner.
By the way, DeeDude found out he has strep throat today. Since Sunday before last he’s been sick. Did he listen to his wife the psychic and go see the doctor last week? No. Now, he’s on antibiotics and went to bed early tonight. I haven’t seen him dragging his butt like this in years. We anticipate a speedy recovery now.