Did I ever tell you that one time a psychic told me that I would marry a man whose name began with the letter “G”?
That was about 18 months before I met Gabe.
Then again, she also told me that I would live in the Pacific Northwest and work in textiles, so one out of three ain’t bad.
Okay, one out of three is pretty crappy, but still G was a good call. There aren’t that many boy names that start with a G: George, Geoff, Gabriel, Grant, Gordon. I’m sure there are many more but it isn’t like she said I would marry someone whose name began with an J or an M.
I suppose I could still end up in Seattle or Portland. I’m only 37. I have a lot of time left to move around.
But the textile thing, I’m just not seeing it.