Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Karma, 101

Everything I touch breaks.

At least today.

My car, the toilet in our community office bathroom, the toilet at the house I used to rent with my sister, the door which the cops kicked down at the old house I used to live at, and for fuck’s sake, my favorite Channel lipstick, and the end of my living room table (baby toe, meet table, AGAIN…), ect…


Similarly, my little sister claims everything in her life rots, i.e. grows mold, from the fridge to possibly her personal life, but I’m not judging, no, of course not.

Conversely, everyone in my office is having a grand old day. So-and- so’s pathetic excuse for a son just bought a house and blah, blah, blah… suck it people!

Do I sound like a five year-old today or what? Maybe someone should just put me on a leash. After all, with my tendency to break shit and what not…..

So, why the rude smart-ass overtones? Readers, I have been feeling somewhat emotionally numb the last few days and cannot be bothered to find one iota of compassion for others in my cold dead lifeless heart.

Also, money people, that’s right, money. I’ve been spending an obscene amount of it lately and found I am somewhat disgusted with myself about it. I received a rather large inheritance over a year ago and I have basically bought a lot of shit. Needless shit. So much for that "conservative with money" accountant stereotype, you won’t find that here, no siree.

And each week it’s a game, isn’t it? We say, I’m going to change this and this and this about my life, next week, yeah, sometime next week. But that time never comes, and well, why should it? When we’re doing just the minimal amount of work in our lives to get by and keep others off our freakin’ backs, there’s not much incentive to achieve, is there?

I the problem is, I was a nose-to-the-grind stone hard core achiever for many years, and managed to make some pretty impressive strides in my life. But now, it’s just enough to get by….heh. How did it come to this, I ask myself often. And each week I make impossible promises to myself about how dedicated and service-orientated I will be and how much joy I will experience because of it, and then… fuck…. it’s pedicures, shopping, tanning, excessive gyming (is that a word?) and martinis on a Tuesday night.

Key lime pie martinis.

Who does that?

Some people my age have 2.5 kids, the house, The Job, ect, ect, ect..
Yet, I cannot be bothered with such humdrum. I’ve been catching flack from friends lately about being more “adult-like” and “stop all that partying girlfriend!” which is actually ironic, because 5 years ago with my nose held to the stone, they looked awfully frivolous in my eyes.

Well, Justin Timberlake, you just might be on to something there, what goes around does come round’. Funny, I thought I told ya.

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