I was never popular in school. No big deal. People made fun of my weird name, and how my parents made their fortune by purchasing and performing in multiple circuses, which is the whole reason we had enough money for me to go to a posh private school anyway. Got picked on by all the rich girls after they found out about my parents and their circus fortune (it’s the biggest circus conglomerate in the world), and then they weirdly picked on me even more when they found out that I didn’t have any circus talents. Like, make up you minds, am I right? Ah, teenage girls are a nightmare.
And then no one really liked me in the working world either. But all of that is about to change, and HAS changed, because I was the only one smart enough to go to that dry needling course…twice. I actually went to a trigger point dry needling course in Sydney, because I was there on holiday, my traveling companion ditched me to go and see some mainstream singing concert and I had a free evening. But while I spent that evening seething with rage at this cruel world, I also had my interest piqued at the concept of needles. Needles that are dry. Dry needling.
So I booked myself in for another one when I came back to Melbourne, and this time I went with an open mind. Or at least, not a mind clouded with quiet apoplexy. I really enjoyed it, and now I’ve been trying out my needling skills on my friends. Everyone is totally into it, even if they were feeling pretty healthy and not like they were in need of any sort of treatments. Michael said it was good for his heart palpitations, and even Deirdre said it was amazing, and that it changed her mind about modern medicine, slightly!
I’m finally a hot commodity, thanks to a dry needling course. And now…no one else must ever do one, so that I may hold onto my power. My dry needling power. Exclusively.