horoscopes.

My hand and star. thanks Cam. X
Cam got this star at school for being a good girl. She gave it to me because, and I quote: "Because you are the bestest mama I could ever wish for".

Yeah, I know. I don’t believe in horoscopes for beans either.

Thing is, the last time I got on a plane, I read mine. Usually, I buy this magazine to help me avoid flatulent man and to help pass the time, with added iPod action.

So, last time I was on a plane, my horoscopes said that December 2009 would whizz past me and I would be in a bubble of mush and happy clouds, nauseatingly good mood stuff. That I would feel connected to it and then thoroughly disconnected from it. Like I was dreaming.

Weird thing? It was right. Except. I’m not dreaming. This is my life.

So, with much trepidation I read mine for February (note, I read these today, as I fell asleep on the aeroplane before we’d even taken off)…

It says (with my comments inbetween):

Long-term ambitions are slowly becoming a reality. (that’s actually kinda true. oh, and i really like that word ‘slowly’. too quickly is just not the way i like things anymore. slow and steady, please – i don’t want to up feeling like i blinked and a year zoomed straight past me again).

Don’t you dare stop now; the final stretch is always the longest. (this part I think Sheena wrote. Heh. It’s exactly what she would say to me after a day like today. it was ‘less than ideal’.)

Besides, when it all becomes too much, you can turn to a love life that promises unexpected surprises. (fact. this is fact. holy moly. this is actual fact. i never, ever thought i’d  say that).

One thing: keep your motives pure. (done. totally. i’d feel disingenous any other way. and that makes me ill. i have to be doing something with my heart to be doing it at all. this may be a character flaw in some instances).

The goodies are about to rain on your head. (i really, really hope so).

This is me, after a shite day, looking over at my gorgeous daughter and thinking how I must’ve done something right.

This is me, after a shite day, smiling at your phonecall, your random twelve stories and your directional hand with me when crossing the road.

Thank you.