On a daily basis, my email inbox is filled with offers from schools that want to help me change my life. I could go back to school and earn all kinds of credentials. I could get a graduate or law degree that will be worth nothing because it is from an Internet school. I could learn to become a chef, a makeup artist to the stars, or even a psychic. I mention the psychic one because when I saw this offer, I could not resist and clicked the “send me more information” button.
Not being a psychic yet, I did not foresee that I would be on every new-age mailing list known to the cosmos. Granted, I love new age stuff (the wackier the better), but since clicking the “become all knowing” button, I have been asked to look into a lot of strange things. I got an invitation to learn a new meditation technique that will catapult me across time and space, which by the way, sounds like a hell of a lot of fun. I was asked to enroll in a class that would teach me how to chant my way to financial freedom. By far, chanting will prove to be challenging because I cannot carry a tune. I would think that if I cannot sing, I will not be a good chanter. However, on a positive note, that might mean that people would hand me money if I promise to just shut up. If I take this chanting class, I plan on trying out my new chanting prowess out on a loan officer at my bank.
Anyway, as I was perusing my email, I had this gut feeling that another exciting learning experience was waiting to be discovered (see? The free psychic classes are paying off). As I glanced at the 230 unopened emails, there it was: my invitation to become an intuitive animal communicator.
Hey, this isn’t just about being a dog whisperer! No, if I take this course and make my two easy payments of $149.50, I can learn to hear what my dogs are actually thinking. And it’s not just dogs. I will be able to read the minds of cats, ducks, ferrets, horses, birds, lions, tigers, bears, and even goldfish. I have often wondered what goes on in the mind of a goldfish. Are they happy flitting around their bowls or do they bored with their limited surroundings?
Well, as it turns out, I may not have to wonder about this much longer. I can sign up today and learn to be an animal psychic. The best part is that I do not have to commute to the psychic campus. No, I can take all my classes in the privacy of own home. Yes, my mind can absorb the psychic signals while I sit in my pajamas and listen to the course via telephone or Internet. It’s like the University of Phoenix meets Harry Potter’s Hogwarts. This is so cool! And guess what else? When I am done with my course, the ad says that people will come knocking on my door to pay me for my expertise.
How great is this? No longer will I need to send out query letters to editors begging for them to read my stuff. No, I will possess such strong psychic powers that clients will seek me out! I am now ready to throw my writing career away for the lucrative and selfless profession known as the animal psychic. It’s like I have had a life-transforming moment—an epiphany if you will
I showed this course to my husband and daughter, both of whom looked at me as if I had definitely crossed over the sanity line.
“You want to take what course?” my husband asked. “We already know what the dogs are thinking. They are not that hard to figure out. Eat, poop, walk, sleep—we already have their buzzwords down.”
“But now, I can tell you when they are depressed or have had their feelings hurt or if they have emotional issues from their birth,” I countered.
“They were strays—of course they have issues,” he argued. “They lived on the streets before they found you, the sap of all saps. They are happy now. Why make them relive that pain? ”
Okay, up until the last part of that conversation, I thought he was taking me seriously. Apparently not. Anyway, I sent a “NO” back to the animal-psychic-course invitation explaining that it was too expensive for me to take on right now. I guess if they were truly a legit school, they would offer some kind of grant or scholarship program, but there was nothing. So, I told my dogs that I wouldn’t be reading their minds, and they did not react much, so I guess they are okay with that. I would know for sure if they were okay if I took the course, but that ship has now sailed.
The disappointment over not becoming an animal psychic will wane soon. As we speak there are at least ten new emails awaiting my attention. And guess what? There is one that is daring me to be a ghost hunter. Now, we’re cooking.