Last week I quit my job.
Most people who know me saw it coming, but for the many people I know through work, it was completely unexpected. So far, everyone has reacted with ‘Omg, what’s happened?’ and I suspect, knowing my tendency for dramatics, they are assuming that I cracked without warning, slamming the manual lift door while screaming ‘I QUIT!’ and storming off down La Trobe Street.
Alas, it was not so exciting and unlike the time someone put spag bol all over the bin in the midst of a bug infestation or the time I realised someone was stealing the toilet paper (I still have my suspicions, but no proof), there was absolutely no hysterics.
Resigning was a massive relief and although I had a TINY panic attack in between being offered my new job and quitting my current one, it wasn’t long before I was getting excited about taking a huge step off my current career path and throwing caution to the wind.
There’s something liberating about having absolutely no idea what the heck you will be doing a year from now, and, to quote my ever-unreliable Fortune Telling Fairy Cards, I am moving forward fearlessly!
Gone are the days of work-related panic attacks and swatting bugs as I sit at my desk – it’s time for freedom, creativity and full, uninterrupted nights of sleep! Woo hoo!
As mentioned above, I do have a new job lined up, which I am very excited about, but leaving my current role will also allow me to look into new opportunities, to focus on my blog and what I really want to do – to DANCE!
Okay, that was totally a joke, but I have spent a fair chunk of the past few days thinking about the future. Now is the time to work out exactly what I want to do and how to do it… But in typical Tennizzle-style, I have become overwhelmed by the decision.
Ideally I would win lotto and spend the next few years jetting around the world, renovating my house and volunteering my time to the greater good… however accepting that this is not going to happen and that the chances of anyone paying me to hang out with my dogs for a living are just as low, I am going to need a more realistic plan.
I have decided to focus on copywriting, but without it being part of my everyday work.
So far, I have taken the massive steps of purchasing my blog domain (check it out, I’ve dropped the ‘wordpress’ from my site, la di da!) AND getting my own personal domain for the future… I haven’t quite worked out how to set up a website or get it hosted, but I’m on my way! I can feel success in the air!
I’m starting with a bit of blatant self-promotion to people I know professionally and am hoping to start putting a portfolio together in the coming months. As a result, my blog will be growing and although my regular, neurotic posts will continue, I will also be using this page as a means of collating writing until I have a proper website.
In the meantime, if you see someone with a sandwich board reading ‘Will Write for Food’ standing outside Flinders St station next month… please stop by and say hi!
A psychic once told me that I was an associate of one certain moustached German dictator in a past life. True story.
To her, this realisation came as a relief as I had apparently been sitting in front of her with a light blazing out of my left shoulder the whole time, (which she insisted is a sign of having taken my own life before). To me, it seemed a little harsh.
She then went on to inform me that in another life I was a butch woman living in the US who drove a wagon and that this current life was my life of being ‘pretty’. Erm… thanks?
This was one of many experiences I have had of psychics throughout my life. I’ve tried palm readers, tarot readers, clairvoyants and numerologists (if that’s a word!) and boy, have I heard some doozies and been given some great inspiration along the way.
The psychic called Kitty – My first psychic was a woman named Kitty, who I saw while at uni. In fairness, she was awesome and it was like sitting down with an aunt to discuss her opinion on my future. At the time, I was getting impatient with waiting for things to happen in life and it was a pretty therapeutic experience. She told me I’d fall in love, get married, have babies, travel and be rich (Score!). She also got my personality spot on.
It was a totally positive and non-weird experience. It was probably also where I should have stopped…
The psychic with kitties – The second psychic was recommended to me by a girl I was working with. It was just before I was heading off on my trip overseas and I was told that she refuses to take payment ‘but you should just leave a $10 donation or a can of cat food, to be nice’. So, who is going to pass up a free psychic reading…?
I made an appointment and rocked up to the dodgiest looking commission housing block I have ever passed. It took me about 10 minutes before realising this was actually the place I was meant to be. I parked my car, put my steering lock on and headed in, texting a friend on the way in case I didn’t make it out alive…
After an awkward start, in which she told me that because I was late that day, I was going to be late my whole life, she started my reading. She asked me to provide most of the information I would expect a psychic to predict – parents names, dates of birth, nationality and family history. As soon as I said we were italian she started saying ‘I’m seeing an M… an M… definitely an M… who died…?’ while I sat in silence, resisting every urge to roll my eyes at her.
The rest of the reading went the same way and let’s be honest, we didn’t click and she gave me nothing. When I stood to leave she stated, bluntly ‘I normally charge $10.’ Okay… I also pulled out my 2 tins of cat food and said ‘my friend told me you have cats?’ she eyed them suspiciously, told me her cats didn’t like the flavour, then took them hastily out of my hands anyway, along with my $10. I made a speedy exit, fearing she was going to put a curse on me if I hovered.
The psychic who saw my past lives – After travelling the world, I ended up living in London and one day decided to go and see a psychic with a friend. My friend was told all about her love life, when she’d return home, who she should be with, etc. This is when I was told about my apparent past lives. In all honesty, I do not remember anything else that this psychic told me, but maybe that’s her strategy, accuse customer of being evil and they won’t remember anything else…
The palm reader – Also in London, and situated not far from the above mentioned psychic, I visited the palm reader with two of my friends. I do believe there’s some truth in palm reading, that your palm records the story of your life and some people can get your personality spot on from looking at it.
That was the situation for all three of us. With one of my friends, he guessed that she had a good sense of rhythm, an appreciation of music and told her that she should be a writer. To the other friend, he said she travels a lot and worked in something to do with travel…
For me, as soon as I sat down he said ‘Erm… how do I say this… although you look really nice and sweet, you are not’. He then went on to explain in detail my tendency to cut people from my life when I feel they have crossed me… and that they most often have no idea what they did… Awkward…
The psychic with no pants on – Another recommendation from a friend, this one reiterated what the first psychic told me. I was still living in London and he told me my life was not there, that my boyfriend was so wrong for me that in my mind I didn’t even have one and that once i found my balance in life, everything would fall into place. He also told me that I would fall in love, get married, have babies, travel and be rich…
I told him that I had seen a psychic several years earlier who had told me the exact same information and his response was:
‘Then stop wasting your money and just listen to what she said!’
The psychic in Williamstown – Back in Melbourne about a year after the psychic above and feeling a bit lost in life, I decided it was time to revisit the whole psychic thing. I unintentionally went to see a psychic who combines tarot and numerology. I had a particular topic in mind which I won’t go into here, but her basic message was that I knew what I wanted and that I should just be open to new opportunities.
However, what she did do was gave me my numerology number and reading for the year. It turns out my birth date makes me an 11, which is the ‘Master Number’ and means I have a greater purpose in this life… I am still figuring out what that purpose is, but will no doubt blog about it once it becomes clear.
The psychic with a friend in the room – I’m not sure how long after the last psychic I saw this one, but she was recommended by a friend of a friend. She worked from home so I headed off to the eastern suburbs one Saturday morning to be enlightened. I was getting a cold at the time and started choking on the incense as soon as I entered the room, so although she recorded the session, it’s mainly a recording of the various stages of my brush with incense-induced death.
The set up seemed fairly normal, except that in addition to myself and the psychic in the room, there was a third person – a small woman sitting opposite me, who clearly didn’t speak english. I believe I was briefly introduced amid coughing fits, but that her presence was not actually explained. Throughout the reading, the psychic would keep saying ‘she is telling me… she has told me… she sees that…’ and I was quite confused as to whether the woman in the room was actually the psychic and was channeling her thoughts through the other woman, or if ‘she’ was someone completely different, and we were all just having some kind of seance, with me in fits of coughs the whole time.
In the reading, I was told that I was meant to work with the environment and that I (again) had a greater purpose in life. Apparently I was to going to return to uni to study environmental science before moving to Asia to volunteer, meeting my husband in the process. To put this in perspective: I struggle to remember what can and cannot go in the recycling bin, I cannot keep a plant alive longer than a month and a four minute shower is my worst nightmare.
I went home to think it over, listened to the recording again, had a giggle and swore I would never see a psychic again. And I haven’t.
So, a couple of lessons I have learnt from these experiences:
1. Do not trust a psychic who has cats
2. Do not judge a psychic who doesn’t wear pants, just keep a safe distance and don’t stare
3. The best psychics are the ones that tell you exactly what you want to hear
4. Everything in life is going to be fine and that $80 is better spent on a new dress