Did I mention that while I was in Italy I went to a spirit channeller?
Not sure if thats the correct term. Some one who channels spririts, not like a barman.
Someone who speaks to ghosts.

She was a medium, I suppose.
Well, small to medium, anyway. About 5 foot 4, eight and a half stone, I’d reckon.

But thats not the point right now.

I went to a lady who speaks to spirits. And they speak back to her. They say drink me! Or I’d guess thats what they say to her.
Thats what they say to me, anyway.
Especially Gin.

I’m going to call them ghosts from now on.

She speaks to ghosts. And they speak back to her. And suprisingly enough, they don’t just say Hello! Im a product of an unstablisingly over-emotional mind or/or a ridiculously overactive imagination! How are you?
which is what I would expect them to be saying. But in Italian. They tell her things about the future. And about anyone else’s future that happens to be lying around at the time. Like mine, for example.

And they told me about the present. Or rather, they told her, and she told my friend, and my friend translated it and told me. They told me I was somewhat cynical about the whole business.

Which, yes, could have been because they have an incredible knack for reading souls, or could be because I was sitting on the edge of the sofa, staring at the crazy lady and wishing I was somewhere else – a bath full of bees, for example – with a look on my face that said I’m nodding and smiling, but inside I think you’re a complete loon! 

They told me that my future involves being around a lot of children in a French-speaking country. Probably teaching. I’m assuming they were skipping over the large chunk of my future that was taken up by learning French.
And the bit that included me suddenly wanting to be a teacher.

But then again, being a cynical wee cow about the whole thing, I’m now quite firm in the belief that teaching is the one thing I will never do. Sure, it’s a great career, and not a bad idea, but if I did it now, would I only be doing it because she said I was going to? Or did she say I was going to because that is what I’m going to do, whether I like it or not? But I hate that. I hate that because I don’t know if I’m only thinking of that as something I could do because the crazy lady said it was so.

I’m a bit lost now.

Maybe I’m thinking about it and would have been anyway whether she said it or not? And, besides which, all of this is entirely theoretical, because I don’t speak French. And wasn’t even thinking about learning French.
Although now I am. Or am I?

Now I’m confused again.

So This stuff, interpreted then spoken, then interpreted again, and translated, then spoken again, went on and on and on.
Apparently I’ve a few problems with a blocked fourth chakra, but I would imagine a couple of paracetamol, or perhaps laxatives, should at least start to help with that.

And my best friend used to be my mother, in a previous life, and my mother used to be my sister and we all lived together in South Africa during some war in which, Oh, I can’t remember, but it was all very complex and symbolic, and all of that.

I know I sound a little cynical with this stuff. Because I am. But there is stuff I believe in. Just not this.

And the man in my future? Don’t get me started.

Tall, dark and fertile, apparently.

Thats all I’m saying.

Just in case, like. Not that I believe in any of that. But I’m not getting any less single over here. So just to be on the safe side, let’s leave it there.