I once worked with a woman who made a lot of trips to the CT Lottery office in Newington, CT, to collect her winnings.  One goes to Newington only when the winnings are somewhat large.  She also won every baby pool in our office.  After a while, I discovered she had psychic powers.  She said we ALL have psychic powers – we just need to be open to them.  What does that mean?  That means letting all your skepticism ebb away.  Free your mind – the rest will follow.

So I tried it, and it worked!  At first it was slow.  I could think of someone – someone I hadn’t seen or talked to in years — and within 24 hours, that person would call me.   I called this talent my “psychic beeper.”  Now you can’t force it – you can’t, say, think of Paul McCartney and expect him to call.  This is more like musing, “Gee, I wonder what old college friend Jane is up to these days – I have no idea what she’s been doing  since our last reunion 8 years ago.”  And then Jane would suddenly call, just to catch up.

It happened too often to be coincidence.   It started to happen with professional contacts – people in state government with whom I had minimal relationships.  They would call and ask me to serve on committees after I had just finished mocking them to my fellow legal aid pals.

It got so intense that I could no longer allow my colleagues to say:   “Hey Randi, remember your crazy client, Mary Looney?  We haven’t heard from her in months!”  BANG – Mary would call within hours.  If my colleagues would even start to mention a nightmare client, I had to shush them immediately, because I DID NOT WANT THAT CLIENT TO REAPPEAR, and the thought of him or her would guarantee a call.

In my first marriage, I could not play “20 Questions” with my husband.  He would read my mind:  “Is it a male?” “Yes,” I would say. “OK, is it Pope Paul VI?”  “YES!  How did you get that?”  So I had to deliberately think of someone else after I had decided on the person in play.

I try to use my powers only for good, and have helped many friends get jobs they really wanted by sending out my magic thought waves, but it’s not a perfect system.  I remember laughing about the fact that my original psychic work friend’s former significant others all met an untimely end.  Coincidence?  Perhaps not.

Then, I saw in the paper that my older son’s evil nasty preschool teacher had died suddenly at a relatively young age.  She was such a bitch and so mean to my boy that it left scars on both of us for years.  I didn’t feel all that sad about her demise.

In 2005, someone called the health authority to report a pile of bulky trash in front of my house, on MY property.  The trash was there because our town required a pre-pickup inspection, and since our trash day is Monday, it had to be out on the street for inspection early the previous week so the town inspectors could amble by and make sure I wasn’t disposing of nuclear waste.

We cleaned out the garage and put out all the disposable stuff as we were instructed, and there it sat, waiting for the inspectors.  Apparently this disturbed SOMEONE so much that he felt the need to call the trash police.  I received a warning in the mail from the regional health authorities, and man, was I PEEVED!  But I didn’t know who the snitch was.  So I filed a Freedom of Information Act request with the town, and learned it was my next-door neighbor.  The trash was not even visible to him – it was on the side of his house that has no windows, so he didn’t have to see it unless he made a point of walking over to it.  Friendly Neighbor Bill, who could have called me or come over and asked about the pile, chose instead to unleash the health hounds.  Not long after that, the mailman told me that poor Bill had had a sudden heart attack and dropped dead at the age of 54.  Oops.

Aside from those unfortunate incidents, most of the time it is fun to let my psychic powers bloom.  Our minds are formidable and complex organisms, and their power is limited only by our lack of imagination.  Try believing in your abilities and see what happens!  But don’t piss me off.


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