Believing in Signs, Dabbling on Randomness and Two Large Cats

I am psychic...
I am psychic...

I used to believe in signs… That is, until I hit my late twenties. It’s probably just me getting old but I stopped looking around and asking for signs. I stopped thinking that something totally random actually meant SOMETHING.

All these signs, these random moments, those things that seem to pop up out of thin air but with the most perfect timing… I really haven’t thought much about it. Until.

Until two people I follow in Twitter caught my attention. (We shall hide them under the monikers of… Marc and Chase… Hi guys! *waves* Oh, those were their real names. I just gave away their real identity. Crap!) One Twitter post led to another… And started these musings and ramblings about signs. And so my former self, the one who used to foolishly believe in signs (Ah, those innocent years I spent believing that the people around me were inherently good and well-meaning and kind), began to wonder once again: What if something wasn’t really random at all? Whether it’s a song that keeps on being thrown into a different genre in your i-pod and keeps on playing no matter how many times you’re sure you had taken it off from the playlist or it’s having the perfect idea of what that certain someone is going to wear for the day… What if it’s Life’s way of nudging you, reminding you, hinting on you about something? About where you should be or who you should communicate with or what you should do?

Years ago, I would know what a certain someone would wear for that day even before I have seen him. It happened once or twice or even thrice a week. It was CRAZY. I would be doing my usual thing and then boom! A random picture of him wearing this or that (I really should stop saying “this or that” because even I am starting to annoy myself) would knock on my mind’s door. Give it a couple of moments later and wouldn’t you know it. He IS wearing what he was wearing in my mind’s eye. I kid you not. True story.

Randomness? At that time, I didn’t think so. I didn’t know (and I still don’t) why I kept on guessing his wardrobe correctly, countless times. It got to the point that I had to change MY own clothes just so we won’t match. I swear, all those times I could guess what he would wear and how I would change just so we wouldn’t have a matching his and hers outfit… CRAZY. Crazy, I tell you. Moral of the story? Don’t overthink on arbitrary moments in your life. Don’t make something out of nothing until the proof slaps you in the face.

Fast forward to now: I inadvertently followed someone in Twitter and said someone, as it turns out, is one of the bosses in the company. And I found out only months after I started following him.

I thought I was following my college crush, truth be told. They had the same name and I probably overlooked the differences in their surnames or maybe I was too busy riding in that cloud, euphoric at the thought that I had finally managed to connect with my college crush  and so I overlooked some details. I can’t be sure but the latter sounds more like me.

Moving on with the story: I followed said user months before even knowing he was one of the bosses. And you know what’s even more funny? That it didn’t sink in immediately. Not even when we had an online meeting and said Twitter user’s full name was displayed there in my larger-than-life monitor (sidenote: My monitor in the office is so large my eyeballs have to swim and do a couple of laps before finding what I need to see). Not even when said Twitter user emailed me for one my tasks. NO. It was weeks after that when I noticed that the boss and the Twitter user? One and the same.

I was following someone long before I knew who he was. Do you know what this means?

Even psychics need doorbells.
Totally tangent but need to know: Even psychics need doorbells.

You guys! I’m psychic!!! This latest, stunning, awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping, momentous event in my life is proof to that. I. Am. Psychic. (What, you guys thought I would say this was all a sign? C’mon, c’mon. I have not gone back to my former self. And besides, I rather think that “psychic” sounds more mysterious and compelling compared to “signs.”)

And to add icing to the cake? He has a cat! A LARGE cat! Adam, I think I just found you a new possible playmate. If only there was a way to get you two together. Let’s just hope, Adam, that the cat is as lazy — oops, mellow. I meant mellow. Let’s hope to high heavens he is as mellow as you are and just as much of a pacifist. Because if that cat isn’t? Um, I think you’ll be better off lounging around here and eating, sleeping, eating some more, and then sleeping yet again.

From seeking signs and then not believing in them to being psychic to getting thrilled about cats… This post has got to be tagged and labelled as a non-sequitur and so now I bid you adieu! And remember: I am psychic!!!

asides: Care to see my Pinterest boards? 🙂 Click right here. I can’t spin straw into gold when you do check it but I promise you that you will be AWESOME! 😀

images sources: velvet tangerine and designwallah


The Day I Thought It Was Wednesday

Today is Wednesday. I thought all along it was Wednesday. But then my mother and my sister –

My mother and my sister were one stop short from going up in arms about how I got the day wrong. Today is THURSDAY.

But of course. Of course it’s Thursday and of course I was one day behind in my own little world.

That kitten. He just isn’t as frisky as he used to be when I left last night. Now he’s all sleep and baby meows. I worry.

Then there’s “True Blood.” I must’ve been watching too much of it, as I woke up thinking I was in the parking lot of Merlotte’s. And then somewhere in my head I would think, “Where’s Bill?” Only to realize I am going to be late for work if I don’t get my butt out of the bed RIGHT THAT INSTANCE.

The Usual Saturday. Except…

I found myself spending around 12 hours in my office most days this week. It’s weird…

I only had an hour’s worth of sleep last Monday and it feels like until now I haven’t yet recovered from that lack of sleep. I thought I’d be sleeping the whole Saturday away but here I am, at past 1 in the morning, and I just woke up. The good news is that: One – I have chocolate-covered marshmallows stashed in the fridge. Two – I have coffee stashed in my bag.

I was going to go for a McDonald’s delivery (Yes, I love McDonald’s) but changed my mind when I saw that my wallet’s cash still had to survive two more days of work until my next payday.

Right now I’m just surfing the web. I even managed to stumble into a good horror blog – Love train for the Tenebrous Empire – through Twitter. My cat is asleep and I’m hoping to high heavens that he won’t wake up until after another couple of hours or so. I have shut the bathroom door in case he decides to be in the Dora the Explorer mood and accidentally drops himself into the toilet bowl. That happened to the cat while I was at work and my sister was kind enough to bathe it. Regardless, I do NOT want a repeat of that dropping-into-the-toilet-bowl episode.

Should’ve Renamed Him “The Cat from Hell”

So I impulsively bought a kitten last Friday and I didn’t realize how much I was subconsciously wanting a laid-back kitten until I got a chubby 2.5 month-old Australian Blue Mist/Chinchilla Persian who refuses to listen to instructions, whether said instructions were delivered firmly or gently.

On said kitten’s first day with me and my family, I was torn between chucking him out the street along with his toys, food and water bowls plus one collar and two leashes and pampering him with the best food and the best toys. In the end, he’s always too adorable to kick out our house.

I named my kitten Adam but after just two days of him screwing our otherwise gentle (although filled with boisterous laughter, corny jokes and crazy antics and squabbles) household, I realized I should’ve name him Hurricane or Cat from Hell.

It’s a love-hate thing.