I was so weak from helping Lu get her body back from the Trapper that I couldn’t guide myself back to my own body. Instead, I had just enough energy to simply let go and allow the cords connecting me to my body draw me back.

I don’t know to explain it, except to say that it’s not a pleasant feeling. The cords connecting to you to your body, providing you haven’t broken them or disconnected them, drag you back and you literally fall into the physical world.

When I let go, there was a swooping feeling in the pit of my etheric stomach, the kind of feeling you get when a roller coaster begins its descent; then I was free falling. I hate the whole tumbling off of a 10-story building feeling of this type of return, but when there’s no strength left to guide myself in, or when someone is a newbie at being out of body or astral traveling, it’s what happens.

I landed with a thud and an “ow.” Then I slowly reached up to touch the spot on the back of my head where I had smacked the floor. …the floor…When I had planed, I had left my body sitting in the comfy chair in my office. Now I was sprawled on the floor, and I realized that the carpeting in here really needed a good vacuuming.

I sat up slowly, then used the furniture around me to gain my feet. Leaning both hands on the desk, I stood head bowed and eyes closed while I waited for the room to stop spinning. It was almost as bad as when I’d had the inner ear infection during the summer, I thought.

When I was steady enough to move, I pulled myself over to the desk chair and plopped down. Sheeesh. It was going to take more than just a simple half-hour’s worth of meditation to get my energies up to normal again. I hoped no one “called” me into the transitional plane in the meantime.

 * * *

Dave got home soon after I did, but it wasn’t until we were eating dinner that I remembered the email from WKRV (RAVE Radio) telling me that I had been recommended as a possible replacement for their resident psychic, Serena the Seer. RAVE did an hour-long psychic show that consisted of the DJ chatting with the Serena for a few moments, and then they took calls from listeners letting Serena do her thing.

The weekly spot was called Speak with a Psychic, and I’ll admit, I’d listened to the spot once or twice. It was your typical tell the listener what they want to hear type of thing, something I couldn’t bring myself to do. As Katy, my best friend, has told me more than once, I make a rotten psychic because I won’t cater to the customer; I insist on telling people the truth.

(You see, there are psychics and psychics. Psychics are the ones who can read people and know how to pander to their needs and wants; the other type of psychics are those of us who can read people’s energies, and so tell them what we know. As you can no doubt deduce, psychics are usually more popular.)

Anyway, it seemed Serena was going on a book tour and RAVE was looking for several replacements to share the task of filling in for her.

Thinking about the email got me irked all over again, and I started sharing my frustration with Dave.

“I mean, honestly. I can’t imagine why one of my friends would have given them my name. Really, submitting my name…” I lapsed into sullen silence and stared at the uneaten dinner on my plate.

When Dave failed to respond, I looked up and saw him looking guilty and hurt.

“What?” I asked, and I put down the folk I’d been holding.

He swallowed nervously, then said, “Ummm, I’m the one who recommended you…”

“You?! Why would you do a thing like that” I crossed my arms and glared at him. “And why didn’t you tell me? It’s not exactly the type of surprise I care to receive.”

Fired up now, he glared right back at me, “Hey! I gave them your business name, your psychic name, not your real name, and it was months ago, anyway. When they didn’t contact you, I forgot about it, okay?!”

He pushed the plate with his half-eaten dinner toward the center of the table; then scooped a hand through his thinning hair. Then in a calmer voice, he said, “I was doing some designs for their new ad campaign and overheard several of the guys talking about needing someone to fill in for Serena when she went on her book tour. I told them I knew a psychic, had heard she was pretty good. End of story.”

I continued staring at him; and then stood up and took our dinner plates to the sink to scrape them. Neither of us was in the mood to finish dinner, that was obvious.

I heard Dave push away from the table and started to bring the left over food into the kitchen. Standing at my elbow, he said, “I did ask how much the gig paid, and the one guy said it would probably be around $1000 for four hours.”

He went back to the table for the rest of the stuff, and I thought about the money. We could certainly use it, that was for sure. Money always seemed to be tight since I left the corporate 9-5 world.

When Dave came back with the rest of the dinner stuff, I turned to face him. “Sorry. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to see what they have to say.” I slipped my arms around him and gave him a hug.

I knew he was only looking out for us, and sometimes you had to do things you really didn’t want to in this world.

His arms reached around me, and he muttered into my hair, “It’s not like anyone has to know who you really are, not if you use your psychic business name.”

I sighed to myself while thinking, the staff would know. But he was right; none of the listeners had to know. Of course, I might not even get the job, after all, I had no idea if I could even do reading on demand. And no way was I going to make something up—that just wasn’t my style.

 * * *

With the dishes in the dishwasher, we curled up on the couch. Dave flipped channels, and I soon fell into a complacent doze snuggled next to him.

He woke me several hours later to go to bed, and sleep was a sweet oblivion. There were no dreams, no calls for ‘help’, nothing.

The next morning, after getting Dave off to the train, I sent an email to RAVE telling them I’d be glad to meet with them. As Dave had said, no one had to know it was me. I could use the name and P.O. box I had set up when I had first thought about doing the psychic thing for money.

I had taken a few clients on and had really given it a try, but it hadn’t taken long for me to realize that I wasn’t psychic enough to make a business off it.

So, I had dropped the website, thrown away the business cards, and never printed up the brochures or flyers that Dave and I had spent hours designing. I think Dave was a little miffed at first, especially after investing all that work, but he soon came to understand why it wasn’t the right job for me. So now it’s a ‘hobby’, or an indulgence, and I write freelance copy for blogs, newsletters, magazines, research companies, and the like.