The Goldfish Are Coming And They're Bringing Coconuts

Old new age girls shouldn't be left unsupervised with their thoughts...

If The Secret really works, I'm in trouble. Because I'd probably have been accidentally killed by my time traveling Scottish warrior during a weird sex act involving his claymore by now. Or possibly I'd have died trying to hook a flux capacitor to my vibrator in order to travel through time and have an orgasm at the simultaneously. Seriously, if what I think about manifests itself I'm fucked. Like totally fucked.

I noticed recently that even my daydreams are beginning to take on plot complications. I am finding myself dodging evil and fighting for my life in order to survive these daydreams. Usually the evil doers want to kidnap me and leave me marooned on an island with sexy movie stars. Then I find myself being annoyed by the self-indulgent celebrity while also trying not to die from anaphylaxis by having only coconuts to eat. This does not seem like normal daydreaming to me. And I really hope the universe is not paying attention. 

I know what all of you Secret devotees are saying, "Amy, just change your thinking. Attract things like happiness, wealth, a loving relationship, a husband, a family...blah, blah, blah. Use the power of positive thinking."

Well, that's all fine and dandy. I try to be an optimist while real life is draining me like a ravenous vampire. But you must realize, I am not consciously controlling these thoughts. My little Buddhist monks would say I have a wild elephant running loose through my mind. They would be right. My fantasies always start out sweet and innocent, filled with fluffy puppies and rainbows. But they inevitably get sucked through a wormhole of horror and turn into zombie werewolves and rainbows bleeding unicorn blood. It never fails. For instance, yesterday I was having a nice sex fantasy about super sexy (insert generic celebrity identity here). We were in a mountain cabin with a gentle snow fall outside the windows. By the end of the fantasy we were both being mauled by a rabid polar bear. I came out of this fantasy/daydream traumatized and in full panic mode. I began to accuse my cats of plotting with the polar bear and sending psychic messages to sexy movie stars to seduce me and lure me into the wilderness where I'd be vulnerable to bear attacks.

So, in conclusion, I hope that the law of attraction is complete bullshit. Because I may just be fucked when the world ends up being destroyed by mutant goldfish with British accents.