Is Karma really, truly, a bitch? I certainly hope so. Now, we know I spent the first half of this year clearing my subconscious clutter and redirecting certain thoughts. Key among them was the recurring notion that I’m some kind of karmic victim, deserving of the hellscape I found* (*somedays, find) myself in this year. Karma just doesn’t work like that, a. because the world doesn’t revolve around me and b. shit happens, not everything that occurs has a reason or cause – both of which are difficult for my brain to even comprehend.
From my new perspective, I hope/think m’lady miss universe (no, not the Trumpian skanks with gums for days, the actual universe) uses karma differently. Thus, my plague-like misfortune of the past year, in my newly enlightened mind, has no karmic significance. Let’s be serious, I haven’t been that terrible in my 31 years. From here on out, when I talk about big “K” Karma, I am talking about old fashioned, tit-for-tat, literal karmic justice. And these days… I’m all about justice.
So, when I found myself knee deep in Hudson crap** this morning, cursing the universe at my “misfortune” – I had initially asked myself, “what the F did I do to deserve this??” …and the answer, quite simply, is nothing. Dogs poop, AC units sputter and cease to work on the hottest days of the year, relationships come and go, nails chip and shit happens. There’s no justice in scrubbing dog poop out of your new carpet, it just is. In reality, Karma has bigger fish to fry when it comes to my life – and I’m just excited to watch it all play out.
In the meantime, if you have any suggestions on how to optimize 4 AC units in a 5th floor, pre-war, walk-up send ’em my way. Also open to suggestions on how to salvage my new rug after this morning’s crisis. Happy 4th of July, everyone!
-B&H
**Now, if we’re evaluating actual causation in the case of this morning’s fecal incident, experts may point to the block of cheddar cheese H and I shared last night whilst watching the Netflix hit “Ibiza”…
The Dog Hair Diaries 