“Hello there,” I smile as my best friend answers my Skype call. I felt like seeing him for a chat today. No matter if you live at the other side of the world, today’s technology still allows for proximity. “Good day. How are you? Did the zombies nibble your toes?”
“Yes they did,” the Mentalist chuckles in good cheer. “How did you know? How are you? How is our project progressing?”
“I have boosted the Happiness post,” I am happy to inform him on the online marketing efforts I am undertaking to make our new blog a success.
“Wow fantastic,” the Mentalist whistles. “I will write some more stuff.”
“I still have to write that post about Living with Yourself,” I tell him pensively. “Probably tonight.”
“Great,” the Mentalist nods at me. “I am so looking forward to seeing how this works out.”
“Me too,” I beam at him. “We are going to succeed.”
“We must!” the Mentalist insists. “Otherwise how will you become famous?”
“It’s not about being famous, it’s about achieving something,” I correct him. But I am wrong. The reason we are doing this primarily is to make money. Because we want money. “Making a difference. And I love writing so much. And I also think you are great and we could do so much good to the world.”
“Right and you will be famous,” the Mentalist points out the aim of our efforts. “Perfect.”
“Better get a facelift and lip filler then,” I pout looking at my own reflection over Skype. “I want to look good on autographs. Kevin is great, but man is he ugly. Sorry.”
At that the Mentalist pulls a funny face which has me folded double in hysterics.
“Yes something like that,” I finally manage to blurt out still laughing.
“Yes I guess he is,” the Mentalist agrees that Kevin Hogan might be a sharp tool in the shed, but his looks belong there too, in the shed.
Later that same evening I call back my best friend all excited and happy to have achieved my little part of the day.
“I just sent you the text for Living with Yourself,” I tell him without much ado. “Didn’t change much. Just added an ending. What do you think?”
“The ending is wrong,” the Mentalist barks having scanned what I wrote. “It will empower you. You will learn to accept yourself for your true greatness and bring you to the path of life you are supposed to have.”
“I will adapt the end and publish it. Okay?” I say hastily taking note and adapting the end. I am quick to send it back to him. Hate it when the grumpy old man gets into a fit about something. “Sent the adapted version.”
Even with all the darkness I know which is yet to come, if I had one wish to make in the magic of upcoming Christmas, then it would be to have an impact on the world around me. I wish to make tons of money, I wish to have my big break through and be famous, I wish to be the best mom I possibly can for my littles, I wish to win the luxury version this life has to offer.