So I went to a psychic. I won’t mention her name, but she knows who she is. What she didn’t know is that I’m a widow. You’d think that would be pouring out of my DNA.
This psychic is the same person who’s able to tell a radio caller that her eight year old will grow up to be a veterinarian. Face to face shouldn’t she know that my face is screaming out “Poor Widow Me?”
Perhaps I should have told her ‘sayonara’ immediately but she was accurate with some stuff.
Plus, I had paid in advance.
Her predictions for me can’t be challenged since they haven’t happened yet. I’ll just have to wait and see and hopefully remember them. Here’s one that stuck in my head.
She told me that in 2012 I would meet the next love of my life. You can see why that got my attention. His name is Dan or Don. She described him in detail but what made me sit up straighter is this:
“He lives in Huntington now. You will meet him in a bookstore, possibly at your
own reading. He’s a widower. His wife died of colon cancer.”
Okay. I admit I the thrilling crescendo for me was to hear “possibly at your own reading.” That’s not my point, though. Let’s put aside my giddy ego and look at the ‘widower’ part.
His wife died of colon cancer. I’m not going to meet him for another two years. I looked up the five year survival rate for colon cancer. Caught at stage one it’s 93%. At stage 3 it’s 59%. Pretty good odds – as long as it’s not me.
My point is Dan or Don’s wife may still be alive! As a matter of fact, she may not have been even diagnosed yet! I feel an obligation to run out to Huntington (only a half hour from my house) and comb the streets looking for her. I must warn her!
“Get yourself a colonoscopy, Mrs. Dan or Don– or you’ll be dead and I’ll nab your hubby!”
Still, her loss of life is my new one. So, #%&$@ her. Hahahahahahahahahaha!