The Situation That Drove Me to the Deck
You see the title and probably think I got some kind of ritual laid out, right? Nope. Forget the fancy robes and the smoky rooms. I was staring at a cheap deck of cards because I was completely, absolutely nuts. I was paralyzed by a decision that could either change my life for the better or wreck it completely, again.
For weeks, I was arguing with myself. Should I take this high-stakes, super-stressful consulting gig that pays more money than I’ve seen in years? Or should I just stick with my current steady, boring, low-pressure tech job that just covers the bills? I asked my wife, who told me I was crazy. I asked my cat, who just blinked and walked away. I needed the universe, or something, to step in, so I turned to the quickest, dumbest method I knew: a simple Yes or No playing card pull.
The Mess That Made Me Ask
Why such panic? Why couldn’t I just make a simple adult decision? Well, that big-money gig is with the same bunch of shysters that totally screwed me over a decade ago. I mean, they didn’t just fire me; they wrecked me. I ended up losing my apartment, selling my only decent camera gear just to eat, and having to move across the country to my sister’s couch for six months.
I worked for them for five years, grinding away, making them a fortune. Then the market hiccuped, and they tossed me out like trash. Stopped my last two paychecks, claiming some bogus breach of contract. I tried to fight it, but they buried me in legal crap I couldn’t afford to navigate. I took the loss, picked myself up, and swore I’d never look back. That trauma, man, it never really leaves you.
And now, here they are, calling me up like we’re old buddies. They’re offering three times what I make now. The money is truly life-changing. But every time I looked at the contract, my stomach clenched up so hard I thought I was going to pass out. I knew I couldn’t trust them, but I needed the cash. This internal fight was killing me. I realized I was just trying to pawn the decision off on fate, because I was too scared to own the choice myself.
My Quick and Dirty Practice Rundown
So, I dragged out an old, slightly sticky deck of 52 cards. No Jokers allowed. This had to be clean, desperate, and direct. I needed rules established immediately.
The Method I Settled On:
- Red Cards: A big, unambiguous “YES.” Take the gig. Chase the money. Risk the heartache.
- Black Cards: A firm, unequivocal “NO.” Stay where you are. Stay sane. Stay safe.
That was it. I didn’t care about suits, numbers, or court cards. Red or Black. Yes or No.
I dumped the deck out on my scratched-up kitchen table. I just stared at it for a minute, feeling ridiculous. Then I gathered them up and started shuffling. And I mean I shuffled. I riffled, I cut, I did the overhand shuffle until my hands were sweating. I just kept pushing the cards around and around, mentally yelling my question into the plastic deck: Should I take that stupid job offer? I shuffled for what felt like ten minutes, trying to get all the residual anxiety from my life into those damn cards.
The Final Action and The Result
I stopped when my forearms started to ache. I laid the deck face down on the table, cut it with my left hand (heard that was important for some reason), and stacked the piles. I closed my eyes and reached out, not daring to look. I reached for the top card of the main pile, pulled it out, and just held it tight in my hand for maybe fifteen seconds. My heart was hammering.
I flipped the card over. It was black.
It was the King of Clubs, but the color was all that mattered. A stone-cold, definite NO. The Universe, or maybe just dumb luck, had saved me from myself. The cards told me to prioritize my peace over a bigger bank account and a high chance of getting stabbed in the back again.
Honestly? A huge, massive wave of relief just washed over me. I finally had my answer, and it wasn’t even my answer. I didn’t have to carry the risk. I picked up the phone right then and there, and I drafted the email. I turned down the big-money gig. I’m sticking with my boring, steady, low-stress crap job. And for the first time in weeks, I actually feel like I can breathe easy. Sometimes, you just need a silly game to drag you out of your own head and tell you what you already knew was right.
