When I was little and had been anticipating something for a long time, I can remember waking up thinking, "Today is the day!" (Yes, the exclamation point was included - I always think with punctuation. Always.)
All momentous events of my childhood-tween-teen-semi-adult life were marked with this phrase. It awakened me on Christmas, birthdays, the day I was set to be un-grounded (I didn't spend all that much time grounded, but when you're nine, it's a big deal), cheerleading tryouts, prom, church ensemble performances, the first day of camp, high school graduation, the first day of college, sorority rush result day (just kidding), college graduation, mornings of job interviews, etc. It's usually unbidden - I just wake up with overwhelming feelings of excitement, apprehension, and, if it's something that's really big, slightly sweaty palms.
"Today is the day!" was my first thought this morning. And yes, if you're wondering, my palms were slightly sweaty. ("Were" - who am I kidding? Let's make that "are.") You see, dear reader, today is the day of my much-anticipated appointment with Julie Walker, medical intuitive. She comes highly recommended. I have no idea what to expect. I'm also having a hard time not viewing her as a psychic.
While I have every intention of eventually getting to the one slightly annoying physical malady that I've been wanting to discuss, I have no doubt she'll be able to ferret out my mental anguish almost immediately. (This may be due to the fact that I tend to burst into tears without provocation lately. An actual ferret would probably realize that I'm not quite myself.) And while I am bothered occasionally by bouts of hypoglycemia, I'm more concerned with the future - should I go to nursing school? Am I supposed to move to California? Should I go to nursing school in California? Was I supposed to be a famous classical ballerina, hindered only by the fact that I did not take ballet until college? Am I destined to be Crazy Aunt Erin, wearer of puff-painted sweatshirts emblazoned with dachshunds, giver of hand-knitted sweaters with arms that aren't quite the same length, owner of large herds of cats?
Two hours, more or less, until The Phone Call. Updates forthcoming.
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Author's note: I realize that "giver of hand-knitted sweaters with arms that aren't quite the same length" contains a misplaced modifier. Rather than moving the modifier (I like it where it is, thankyouverymuch) I would like to clarify that the arms in question are the arms on the sweater. My arms are very much the same length, much to my continuing delight.
hahaha. your comment clarifying your arm length really sealed the deal for me.
i hope the julie walker experience was a positive and nice one! you must tell me how it went. intuitive medicine sounds really fascinating.
oh yay and happy delight! i'm glad you reached a place of... cool... collected... chill... and zen. :) tonight: a secret shirt meeting.
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