I touched the key and….

Ok, so I’m still not done with this week’s Chat magazine. You’ll be glad to hear we’re revisiting it and this time, I’m heading to the ‘Spirit World’ section, with Chat’s medium, Tony. Now every week, there’s a picture of a key.

The ‘lucky things that happened to readers’ last week were….

Kate baked the perfect chocolate cake for her son’s birthday.

Peggy learnt to ride a bike (she’s 60).

Maggie’s dog has finally stopped chewing her shoes.

Apparently those things happened because of touching the key. Amazing. So if you’re reading this and you want some amazingly good luck (if you are going to make a cake, ride a bike or get a dog, maybe) close your eyes and touch the key and report back the lucky things that happened to you as a result of it. Let me tell you about my day yesterday after I touched the key. The luckiest day ever!

I woke up at 4.15am to do an online exam, my last thing for my law degree, and my computer didn’t break in the middle of it! Wow!

I made a cup of tea and didn’t spill any of it on myself! Amazing!

I wasn’t late for work! In fact, I was three minutes early… Lucky!

I was very tired but I didn’t fall asleep standing up! Omg!

I had five coffees but didn’t have a heart attack! Gosh!

Someone annoyed me at work but I didn’t punch them! Brilliant!

I had a sleep when I got home from work and didn’t fall out of bed! Yeh!

I made a tasty banana bread! Fantastic!

I made a nice dinner for a friend who came over! Fab!

The football was on but I read a book instead so I wouldn’t get bored! Great!

The washing dried on the line outside so I had clean pyjamas for bedtime! Amazing!

You see? All you sceptics out there. I bet you’re eating your words now, aren’t you? See how LUCKY my day was after I touched the key? I might write in to Chat to let them know how much they helped me and they might put me in their Lucky Key column.

I heart Chat.

B is for….

BABIES!
Actually, it’s less about babies and more about how irritating it is when people tell me I’ll want them.

“Just you wait. You say that now, but just you wait. You’ll turn 30 and you’ll feel different. You’ll see. You will.”
I’m sorry? Do you know me? Do I know you? No. I just met you at friend’s house, or on a bus, or I’m in your taxi, or I’m serving you a coffee. And I don’t want, and will never want, my own babies. Ever. Playing with other people’s is great but that’s all I need. I don’t need one in my own home, screaming and running and breaking stuff. I just don’t. And they tell you, as though they are all knowledgeable and you are a naive child with little life experience. Well I’m almost 27, which isn’t old, as such, but its not 17, is it? I know my own mind well enough by now.

The same happens on exercise DVDs. The man lifting the weights or doing the stretches tells you, ‘Stretch! That feels good!’ Erm, it doesn’t actually. I’m red and sweating and puffy and on the verge of a heart attack and I really want to sit down and get my breathe back. Don’t you tell me it feels good! It bloody doesn’t!