As a fun moms’ night out, a few girlfriends (or as I like to call it, Three Hot Blondes and a Brunette,) and I had our tarot cards read last Friday. When the Reader asked if I had any specific questions, I said no, and that I just wanted basic information. I don’t want to know when I’m going to die, etc., although I probably wouldn’t have to wear clean underwear quite as often, just in case. There would be no more just in case. But I digress . . . This, apparently, is what the Universe wants me to know:
- My career is going to take off! This would be AWESOME news if I had a career. So I’m thinking one of two things is going to happen: A) someone is going to notice my blog and offer me a sh*tload of money, a workspace, international fame, and a book deal, or B) my life-long dream of actually becoming Ms. Dolly Parton is about to come true. I don’t know which one to root for.
- I’m a very deep person. I knew all those self-help books served a purpose. Turns out, I’m the Dalai Lama of suburbia. I’m the Dalai Mama.
- People like me. (This, of course, led to my girlfriend having a dream about me accepting an award a la Sally Field – “You like me! You really like me!”) I was not a popular high-schooler and I floundered around a bit in college, but I’ve always had this need to be liked. Which is ironic, since I’m kind of a b*tch.
- I am blessed. This creeped me out a little bit since I had just recently posted the blog about how frustrated I am with motherhood sometimes. I need to look at the glass as half full. . . . which I am willing to do, so long as it is a wine glass.