Ask A Life Coach, With Chris Illuminati
Dear Chris, Lifecoach Esq: (I can call you Chris, right? Or should I go with Chris, ESQ or something?) Never mind, I’m going to call you Caroline.
So, Caroline, o! my life coach: I have a pressing problem that I need your life coach skills to fix.
Uh. Where are my car keys?
Love,
Aunt (motherfucking) Becky
P.S. The (motherfucking) is silent.
————–
Dear Aunt (motherfucking) Becky:
I’m pretty sure I can’t wait until car keys become a thing of the past like roll down windows and frosted Christmas trees.
I’ve got one of those cars where you don’t need to put the key in the ignition, you just need to have the key near the car.
This means I forget my keys more often, and then spend ten minutes convincing the car that the key are in my pocket. “Come on, I’m late! They are right in my pocket you just can’t detect them underneath that wad of cash. Why are you laughing? I could have cash! It’s possible!”
You know what I hate?
Lost car key stories. Why do people tell stories about losing their keys? I always know the ending…THE KEYS ARE FOUND! If not, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, because you’d be stuck in your house and I’d be sitting in this deli alone.
Also, I hate that the stories also end with the expression “they are always in the last place you look.” Of course they are because if you found them you stop looking for them. You don’t find your keys and go “let me keep looking in places in case other keys need to be found.” Whatever you lose is always in the last place you look because you stop looking. If they were in the first place you look, they aren’t lost, they are right where you put them.
I might be drunk.
Love,
Older cars do not NEED keys if you are a creativ engineer.
(did i just say that out loud on the internet?)
Ha, I used to have a car I started with a screwdriver. I probably should have had my own reality show.
One thing about living in a tiny, secluded town. Where are my keys? In the ignition of my truck – where they ALWAYS are.
Ever see the movie Did You Hear About the Morgans? That stuff really does happen!
Caroline is the greatest name for a life coach. I would know.
Anyone seen my sanity?
If you find it, you can keep it. I’m retired, I don’t need it any more.
Check behind the sofa, it’s probably behind there with jeebus playing go fish
I’m not going back there.
They got dust bunnies back there!
..shiver..
Never trust advice from a life coach unless they are named William or Heathcliff. This, I found out the hard way…
When I was in the hospital I gave my keys to my brother so he could feed my cat. I had 2 sets. They are the expensive beeper kind. When I got home from the hosptial I was like DUDE, where are my keys! He said he left them in my desk drawer. I looked forever, and kept on asking. Think of course that he would come over and get my car for a drunken night out when his tires blew out (he drives super fast so that happens often). I just found them in my desk drawer where they probably got lost when I was digging for them. My bad.
Lost key stories should end with ‘And then the locksmith pealed his t-shirt off his perfect abs.’
funny stuff…
The only time I lose my car keys is when they are confiscated by one of my Nazi parents.
Chris is the first sane life coach I’ve met, either online or in the flesh. i know two others, both in the flesh.
Life Coach #1, , along with her dentist partner [who can’t be just a normal dentist, but treats animals as well as humans, resulting in most human patients not going to her because they don’t want the same instruments in their mouths that were previously in the mouths of dogs and cats, much less to sit in dentists’ chairs that are covered in dog and cat hair hence the financial instability] and turkey baster baby. Despite three college degrees between the two adults in the picture, they moved in and out of friends’ homes for the past four years until the Life Coach’s mother became so incapacitated that they could take over her finances, after which they promptly bought a home for themselves. And this woman is qualified in some way to tell others how they should manage their own business and professional lives?
Life Coach #2 is a devout Latter-Day Saint, yet had gastric bypass surgery last year. Under ordinary circumstances I begrudge absolutely no one whatever intervention, — medical, surgical, or otherwise — that they choose in order to feel good about themselves. In this particular case, however, the Life Coach in question, who may [or may not] be an extended family member, is most disparaging toward my parents because they enjoy the occasional glass of wine [my mom] or the occasional four-beers-in-one-night binge [my dad].. The same Mormon code that makes my parents’ drinking a sin if they were Mormons, which they are not, also makes it a sin for this woman to eat her way into a get-rich-quick scheme for her surgeon, yet she and her husband (who would benefit from the services of her surgeon as well but has not to date summoned the courage to go under the knife) tell any mutual relatives or acquaintances who inquire about my parents that they are both raging alcoholics and major sinners because of their flagrant violation of “The Word of Wisdom.” This same Life Coach, who takes the money of unsuspecting fools to tell them how to live their own lives, is three months behind on her mortgage and would be six months behind had she not begged for and received help from my “alcoholic” parents. Her children refuse to do their homework, and she does nothing about it. She doesn’t even turn off the TVs or take away the X-Boxes. Neither does her three-hundred-seventy-pound husband. They let their six little terrors, none of whom weighs over seventy pounds, vegetate in front of TVs and video games all afternoon and evening. They even carry their dinners to them and let them eat in front of what ever electronic entertainment is possessing them at the moment. Teachers have reached the point that they rarely bother contacting them about their children’s missing and unfinished classwork and homework, because the teachers know that a call will accomplish absolutely nothing. Yet fools continue to fork over cash to this Life Coach at a rate that enables her to pay her mortgage roughly every other month. The husband’s salary goes entirely to food, electricity, and electronic gadgets and probably Internet porn subscription fees as well, although this is only a hunch on my part and I have no substance at this point to support such an allegation.
So you can see why I’m skeptical of Life Coaches. Still, I don’t want to paint them all with the same brush, though Chris/Caroline seems entirely too sane to be one of them.
The only time I lose my car keys is when they are confiscated by one of my Nazi parents.
Chris is the first sane life coach I’ve met, either online or in the flesh. i know two others, both in the flesh.
Life Coach #1, , along with her dentist partner [who can’t be just a normal dentist, but treats animals as well as humans, resulting in most human patients not going to her because they don’t want the same instruments in their mouths that were previously in the mouths of dogs and cats, much less to sit in dentists’ chairs that are covered in dog and cat hair hence the financial instability] and turkey baster baby. Despite three college degrees between the two adults in the picture, they moved in and out of friends’ homes for the past four years until the Life Coach’s mother became so incapacitated that they could take over her finances, after which they promptly bought a home for themselves. And this woman is qualified in some way to tell others how they should manage their own business and professional lives?
Life Coach #2 is a devout Latter-Day Saint, yet had gastric bypass surgery last year. Under ordinary circumstances I begrudge absolutely no one whatever intervention, — medical, surgical, or otherwise — that they choose in order to feel good about themselves. In this particular case, however, the Life Coach in question, who may [or may not] be an extended family member, is most disparaging toward my parents because they enjoy the occasional glass of wine [my mom] or the occasional four-beers-in-one-night binge [my dad].. The same Mormon code that makes my parents’ drinking a sin if they were Mormons, which they are not, also makes it a sin for this woman to eat her way into a get-rich-quick scheme for her surgeon, yet she and her husband (who would benefit from the services of her surgeon as well but has not to date summoned the courage to go under the knife) tell any mutual relatives or acquaintances who inquire about my parents that they are both raging alcoholics and major sinners because of their flagrant violation of “The Word of Wisdom.” This same Life Coach, who takes the money of unsuspecting fools to tell them how to live their own lives, is three months behind on her mortgage and would be six months behind had she not begged for and received help from my “alcoholic” parents. Her children refuse to do their homework, and she does nothing about it. She doesn’t even turn off the TVs or take away the X-Boxes. Neither does her three-hundred-seventy-pound husband. They let their six little terrors, none of whom weighs over seventy pounds, vegetate in front of TVs and video games all afternoon and evening. They even carry their dinners to them and let them eat in front of what ever electronic entertainment is possessing them at the moment. Teachers have reached the point that they rarely bother contacting them about their children’s missing and unfinished classwork and homework, because the teachers know that a call will accomplish absolutely nothing. Yet fools continue to fork over cash to this Life Coach at a rate that enables her to pay her mortgage roughly every other month. The husband’s salary goes entirely to food, electricity, and electronic gadgets and probably Internet porn subscription fees as well, although this is only a hunch on my part and I have no substance at this point to support such an allegation.
So you can see why I’m skeptical of Life Coaches. Still, I don’t want to paint them all with the same brush, though Chris/Caroline seems entirely too sane to be one of them.
Lost keys stories don’t always have happy endings.
My keys have been lost at my work for about three months now.
Luckily… I had a spare car key (plus two more, now) and could get another house key made.
I’m still looking forward to the day, probably in 10 years time*, when I get a phone call telling me my keys have been found.
*(I assume I won’t work at the same place in 10 years. It would be beyond depressing if I did.)
Nothing is ever lost!