the karma office

I seriously wonder if I ask for these things to happen to me. I mean, I have a feeling sometimes that an uber-bored desk clerk in the Karma Office has been assigned to watch every moment of my life so that I can be appropriately rewarded/punished for my deeds. Except, being the bitter desk clerk that he inevitably is, he wants to Stick It To The Man by way of maybe punishing me when I don't necessarily deserve it.

Case in point. Yes, I know that maybe I shouldn't have decided "just to windowshop" in Target . . . because windowshopping always leads to purchasing . . . but I had to buy cat food and there was a clearance sale and I swear, I NEEDED everything that I ended up buying. Seriously, I can rationalize it all. And my purchases helped humanity in the long run because it made me happy and correspondingly, everyone in my life happy. So was there really a reason to send three of the most gigantic and disgusting centipedes Ever To Exist after me in my apartment?

The first one I thought was just a random and brief moment with the seedy underbelly of nature. So, I killed it and moved on. The second one, I didn't find so cute. And the third one (discovered by the constant sound of Rue trying to chase it) thoroughly and utterly ruined any appetite for any food that I might conceivably desire in the future. Oh, I killed it . . . have no fear. But I also got to see the yellow pus of its innards squeeze out all over the napkin that I killed it with. I then flushed it down the toilet because By God I was going to make sure that multi-footed little monster was dead - but I was scarred for life.

Ok, so I figure by this point, I've evened out my score with the Office de Karma and showed that little bureaucratic bastard a thing or two. Well, maybe he was able to read my evil thoughts because when I woke up the following morning, I heard a gurgling noise coming from the toilet in my half bathroom. After adopting the surficial appearance of strength and serenity, I approach the toilet to discover that it is about to overflow with soap suds. Wha?? Excuse me??? Since when did my toilet turn into a washing machine???? I closed the lid on the toilet in a feeble attempt to keep the soap suds from creeping out onto the bathroom floor like those horrifying sitcom moments when some lovable yet idiotic character accidently pours too much detergent into the washing machine and the laundry room becomes the Land Of Slippery Suds. Aaaaaah! What did I do to deserve this??!

My sudsy toilet problem was fixed in the long run, but someone really needs to get that desk clerk a cup of coffee and a salary raise. Pronto.