Psychic gifts from hell
I have the sight. I have to admit it.
And I love it, quite honestly. I love knowing things spontaneously and without prompting. Like the fact that I should pick up a pack of mustard flavored pretzels at the store, because my sister will be trying some at work in about an hour and will want some for her own. I love knowing that one of my sisters is pregnant before she even finds out. I love talking on the phone to people and knowing what they are wearing and whether they have their hair in ponytails or straight. And I love telling people that someone they know called Anna needs to get ahold of them, or someone they know that has just painted their living room yellow wants to talk to them.
I also love more important information, like that a friend will be dating someone soon, or will succeed in getting the job that they want. I love knowing that someone will successfully receive a hard earned scholarship for the school they want to go to.
Often this information comes to me because I am doing a psychic reading on someone. I’m actively seeking information on the querent, and so pick these bits up out of the stratosphere somehow. Other times I’m just sitting in a Taco Bell minding my own business, when I suddenly am prompted to tell a complete stranger that something wonderful is coming into her life.
And usually my information is greeted with thanks. People are almost unanimously grateful for the input that my quirky psychic bones get to them. Still, there are those times that my information is awkward, if not off putting.
Like the time I had to tell a friend of mine that she should give in to her husband about something in the bedroom. Well ok, I didn’t really tell her she SHOULD, I just mentioned that the topic was coming up in the reading. Turns out her husband had been badgering her about a particular position to try every since they’d gotten married. He finally got his way. However, they divorced a short time later. Ooops.
My little gift jumps out of my mouth from time to time. I wish it were predictable, like some of the shows on TV make you believe. Where the world around you goes all fuzzy or cloudy, or you start getting a headache, or colors change and shift. Then I would know I was having a psychic meltdown, or moment, and I would know how to behave accordingly. But that’s not the case. True, sometimes I can see the information inside my head, like it’s on a billboard or a marquis. But often I just blurt something out, before the thought has even solidified itself in my brain. One minute information is not there, and the next it just is. Which is great.
Except for when I accidentally blurt out something that is a true statement, when I think I’m only being funny. Like, “oh that guy likes to wear women’s underwear”, and it turns out to be true. Ooops. He probably didn’t want everyone finding out quite like that.
Well, I guess you can’t look a gift horse in the mouth, what with the nasty horse breath and all. So I will just have to take the knocks that come along with all the fun psychic information. It wouldn’t hurt if I could find a way to slow down my big mouth before it starts spewing out information that could get me into trouble.
But then, that just wouldn’t be me.