labor of love

Reading tarot is a very cumbersome task, I kid you not. There are times that I just want to drop dead after a single session, & the so-called compensation I get from my whimsical hobby actually borders on pathetic more than I would want to admit. I’ve realized ever since that massages & other forms of relaxation get to be more of a necessity than anything else in this line of work, & that’s why it’s costly to be me sometimes LOL. Reading tarot is just as stressful & gruelling as any other job that requires further study & training, & let me clobber anyone else who’d dare to declare otherwise. I’m not sure if I’m ready to dabble into it full-time, i.e. professionally, & it’s hard to savor nicer memories with my loyal patrons at this rate just to remind me how I’d kill for this job everytime because I’m really exhausted with my other duties, & the commute to & fro alone is maddening. Maybe all I need is just more sleep on my days-off & that extensive weekly massage spree again. Yeah, give me that for Christmas & I can finally die happy. ♥ Oh, wait, throw in a trip back to Sha Tin for at least the weekend & THENNNNN…

Honestly, I don’t feel the Yuletide spirit even despite all the tinsel, carols, lanterns, Christmas perks (like free food & discounts), gifts I’ve received & need to give in turn at work, & the spiels I’m compelled to blurt out on the phone with customers from my day job. Somebody stop me from morphing into the Grinch before Tuesday.