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I Want to Believe
I know I just got finished describing my preference for science, diagnostic tests (as opposed to screenings) and a general lack of faith in the mystical when it comes to my body or my life in general.
So it surprised me that I spoke to a psychic at a birthday party the other night and found the experience rather comforting. These are uncertain times when sleep is difficult not only because of early morning frets about things like work and childcare, dog care, and questions of the future but things are starting to get uncomfortable because I'm sharing my body with someone else who is clearly disappointed with my body's interior design.
It wasn't a real psychic reading and it didn't take three minutes, and I know the Mystic Lady had been instructed by our hostess not to say anything that would really bum people out in her predictions ("This is a birthday party! No one goes home miserable!"), but, but, but- while I can't say I fell for it entirely, I was pleased and rather comforted by it.
My husband, who has an interest in how psychic types do what they do, happily pointed out all of the ways I must have given myself away in this encounter, but today I don't care. I’m willing to suspend my disbelief.
How nice to hear her prognostications about my work, how appealing- the notion that the things that are so frightening could turn out well.
And what's wonderful about the vagueness of the three-minute fortune is that it is so very flexible. I was almost ruffled when this woman said she saw three children in my life (which is surely more than I can handle)... and then I realized she has to have been talking about the terrier.
posted by Elise at 5:44 AM
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Laura K said...
Or the husband ;>
1/12/2007 4:00 PM
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