I thought you might be concerned about my well-being, post doom and gloom predicted in my Tarot Card Reading. I am still present and accounted for. Thank you for your letters of concern.
However, I did notice yesterday a strong desire for destruction welling up within me. Could be all that anxiety I haven't managed. It's like a ferocious tiger inside me, this anxiety. I think I'll call it Charles. My ferocious tiger of anxiety called Charles. Has a nice ring to it.
Charles was feeling a little randy last night and forced me to drink a bunch of wine. Charles likes to party. Charles also likes to play the music loud and so Charles and I had a nice chat about what else: anxiety! It was riveting. You should have been there.
I'm kidding of course. Charles and I didn't talk at all. Charles is a ferocious tiger and tigers don't talk. He did enjoy the Beaujolais though! I thought maybe Charles and I could work up some sort of compromise wherein he would not tear me limb from limb. Jury's still out on what course of action Charles will take.
It's funny that anxiety. I don't feel particularly anxious but now that someone has told me that I have anxiety, I feel obliged to develop some anxiety. It's the polite thing to do. And when I set my mind to something, watch out.
I really hate predictions though; they're so presumptious. (God, that was a good one.) I think the Tarot Card Reader is trying to control me, albeit remotely. He may have picked up on my awesomeness and has some sort of dastardly plan for world domination and I'm his ticket to ride. (That may have been the best sentence I've ever written.)
In sum, I am not myself. Did you meet Charles? The Tarot Card Reader may have designs on my person. I am not anxious right now but if provoked, I may become anxious. Pretty awesome all around, no?
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