I went and had my 2010 psychic reading yesterday afternoon. It was a somewhat uncomfortable set-up, in a store called The Elite Goddess. The psychic dude, Ernesto, plays outta there a couple Saturdays a month. I thought it would be in a little back room, but it was just in a little back corner of the store, cordoned off by fabric screens. You could hear the entire conversation throughout the store, which wasn’t as freaky as it could have been, because there was no one else in the store, outside of the shopkeep. But I heard the person before me, and it made me aware of my every spoken word, so I didn’t do more than nod my head during my session. So not thrilled with locale. No startling revelations, either.
I’m not sure what I hope to hear at these things. I guess something along the lines of “Life will be FAB-U-LOUS! once you do X-Y-Z. Nah. That didn’t happen. He did tell me to stop being so bitchy towards people. In a more polite manner, of course, but that was the essence. Ernesto also advised that I have feelings of being taken advantage of a lot, and that’s probably pretty accurate, and he pinpointed work. Is that really such a revelation, though? Well, it was $40 to hear that if I want to get a new job, apply over the next two months and Great New Things shall be mine, so what have I done with the rest of the weekend? Facebook-stalked people of no importance and read a lot of stupid on-line shit that doesn’t do one thing to move my life forward. You know, the usual.
January winds to a close and I’ve done very little with my Non-New-Years-Resolutions. Other than learning that I can’t be generous without the expectation of a sincere “thank you,” so I’ve hung up my Giving Hat for a while, and will only contribute towards animal shelters until I can feel less annoyed by people.
Too often, those people who exhibit bad behavior have a special knack of making you feel like the asshole. Kinda like in the movie theater, when the person in front of you is TEXTING (Pet Peeve #2, behind Litterbugging) during the movie and you (by “you” I mean me) loudly tell them to turn their phone off and they turn around and give you (by “you” I mean me) the Bad Eye, like “How dare YOU interrupt my texting!” Yeah, like that.
Well, 2010 is where I don’t allow that to happen to me, I will not allow the a-hole behaviorist to make me feel bad for calling them on it. Nope. So maybe this is what Ernesto means about my working on not being such an a-hole. It’s a work in progress, apparently.
On an upnote, we finally had our elliptical machine delivered Saturday at 7:15 p.m. The intended delivery date was Friday between 2-6. So yeah, a day and a few hours late. As the evening turned into 5:45 with nary a word from the delivery peeps on Saturday I called and asked the lady where the heck my stuff was. She said it was on it’s way, and would arrive within the hour. I inquired as to how I could be last on the list when they were already a day late, and shouldn’t I have been FIRST, and now I’ve wasted Friday & Saturday afternoon, and now evening, waiting for them.
I got the words out, wasn’t too terribly bitchy about it, more along the lines of inquisitive, and when the dudes finally showed up and put ‘er together he apologized for the delay in delivery. My response was, “I’m sorry that we ordered pizza with part of your tip money while we were waiting around for you.” And I wasn’t kidding. He got $15 to split with his partner instead of $30. Cause seriously, we spent our cash-on-hand on pizza and Pepsi (which is really ironic, since we were waiting for our EXERCISE EQUIPMENT!), while we hung around the house from 2:00-7:15 waiting for them. He did have the good humor to laugh about it, which endeared him a little bit to me.
So for you Ernesto, I will work on my bitchiness. Twenty-ten is gonna be tough.