Spiritually speaking, I don’t know what I believe. I was raised southern baptist. There were preachers who ran up and down the church aisles shouting, red faced, panting and sweating. They stomped their feet. Women stood and shook and cried in religious extasy. I tend to appreciate quieter settings.
A friend told me recently about an intuitive, a fortune teller, she had gone to visit. She said I should really give the woman a call. I always have friends and loved ones telling me about visiting various fortune tellers. For some reason, these poeple always say something about me. Seriously. They will tell the people they are talking to that they know a writer. They will tell them that this writer looks like me, or has my name, or something that says it is me.
This is the first time I have ever gone. What did the intuitive tell me? She said that I will chance jobs around July. She said I will be a grant writer. She told me that my current job is draining and that I need to get out. She said I will travel, lots. She said I will never marry and will have no children. She also said that I will get published this year. And I need to fix my resume.
I liked her. I think a big part of these people’s careers is just reading people. Looking at us and saying, hey, this is this and this is that. They watch the way you react, the way you nod or don’t nod. The way that you lean, the look on your face. There were things she did pull out of thin air. I walked in and she told me I was interested in grant writing.