I took this photo on my birthday a year ago, at 21, in another person's apartment complex. Since alcohol consumption was nothing new to me by this time, I decided that I wanted to try something I'd never done before and something that would upset my mother just as much as drinking would: I went to see a psychic.
In exchange for $60 (overpriced), she gave me my "future." I was promised the following: a fulfilling career, marriage at 29 to a "Michael" and/or a "Chris" (not generic boy names at all; but I pray for this poor soul in advance), and we may have twins (I pray for my social life). Then she asked me if I enjoyed writing. "Occasionally." And she told me to continue writing. Which I still, occasionally, do and would have regardless.
She asked me if I wanted to know anything else, so I asked her when I should expect to die. She took a quick look at my lifeline and told me I had plenty of time. "How long?" "'You'll be around 'til your 80's." "Yeah, that is long."
Then I drank a lot that night.
Clinking glasses to my supposed long life.
In exchange for $60 (overpriced), she gave me my "future." I was promised the following: a fulfilling career, marriage at 29 to a "Michael" and/or a "Chris" (not generic boy names at all; but I pray for this poor soul in advance), and we may have twins (I pray for my social life). Then she asked me if I enjoyed writing. "Occasionally." And she told me to continue writing. Which I still, occasionally, do and would have regardless.
She asked me if I wanted to know anything else, so I asked her when I should expect to die. She took a quick look at my lifeline and told me I had plenty of time. "How long?" "'You'll be around 'til your 80's." "Yeah, that is long."
Then I drank a lot that night.
Clinking glasses to my supposed long life.
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