So, you know how I mentioned that I lost my keys last week? I didn’t realize they were missing until I tried to leave for work on Tuesday morning, and so began the tearing apart of my house. Seriously, it felt like we looked everywhere. I actually had given up and decided that either a small person dropped them down a heat register, or that they had been thrown away with the wrapping paper and stuff from Sweet Will’s birthday party. So frustrating!
Fast forward to yesterday. My friend E emails me suggesting (lightheartedly) that I call a psychic. I respond that I’m about that desperate, and how do I go about finding a psychic? This was her response – cause it was funny:
“As for finding a psychic, I haven’t seen daytime TV in awhile, maybe the phone book? OK, I just googled it and here is what I came up with:
Lelelewa Tano Rikiho
Psychic Sheila Suga Shack
Gaile Hensley Psychic Intutitive
(Phone numbers and addresses have been deleted, because for some reason that seems inappropriate, even though we got their phone numbers and addresses off the interweb in the first place.)
Sheila Suga Shack is the clear choice. Lelelewa gets props for her exotic name, but the Psychic “Intutitive” a) cannot spell, and b) lives in an apartment, so is probably not that good.”
So you guessed it, I called Sheila Suga Shack. And yes, she actually answers the phone, “Sheila’s Suga Shack.” I asked her how the whole thing worked, and she told me about her rates - $75 for a private hour long reading. And her procedure – bring stuff for her to touch. We talked for a little bit, and then I said, “How are you at finding lost things?” She replied, “What did you lose?” I told her I lost my car keys several days ago, and that I had torn my house apart looking for them.
She said, “Do you have two purses?” I said, “Kind of, I have a diaper bag.” And she said, “I feel like they got lost in a transition of some kind, like when you were switching between your purse and that bag. You need to take everything out of that diaper bag. Turn it upside down and dump it out.”
And then I kind of naysayed her a little, saying I had checked there multiple times. She just kept repeating the lost in transition thing, and then said, “They are in a bag. Look in every bag you own.” So last night, stubborn me looked (again!) in the nooks and crannies of the car, Sweet Pea’s backpacks/purses, all my grocery bags, my gym bag, the art supply bag, all the gift bags from the birthday party, the bag where I keep fabric, and then finally and grudgingly I dumped out the diaper bag. Again. Voila, keys.
I might put her on speed dial.