Instant Karma

"Instant Karmas Gonna Getchya"
Thank you John Lennon, How right you are...
My Confession:
So for those who know me, know I am superstitious. I mean super superstitious. Don't walk under ladders. Shoes on a table are gonna put me in a frenzy. Umbrellas opened inside makes me break out in hives. And I am always knocking on wood, and if there isn't any wood, watch me find some quick! (I have a soft spot for black cats so that one not so much..). I am also a horrible liar, and I cannot steal. Seriously, when other girls in my grade were pocketing Bonne Bell lipgloss at the mall in Jersey, my ass turned the other way and ran. Couldn't do it. The one time I tried I broke out crying right away. I think it's my recovering Catholic consciousness, growing up in New England amoungst big statues of Mary and Jesus and all the Saints, living in Salem Mass and in haunted houses up and down the coast, and having Christian parents, Irish and Italians and Gypsies, all this is gonna get to you at some point. So, I make the best of it, gave up my fantasies of having a life of crime, and try to live an honest life. Most of the time.

So its been raining really hard, and my ass has this cheap flimsy ugly blue jankey Walgreens umbrella that is making me miserable. It's Monday, it's pouring, and I am using this umbrella, guiding it into the rain while it is flowing all over the place. I might as well not have one. I am not just wet, I am soaked, and pist. I finish at the gym and when I am getting ready to walk home I am dreading it, cause I am wearing my warm gym clothes and I don't wanna get a cold. Ok so there is this lovely black umbrella just hanging out. Just sitting there. Alone. Not in a locker. It should be in a locker right? It's probably been sitting there for hours, abandoned in the locker room, I justify to myself. I want it, I want it bad. It's basic and black and best of all it's not broken. Not that I can see anyway.

So, hmm, I say to myself, if I leave my umbrella, maybe it's not stealing, maybe it's just trading. Then, if the owner does come back, which she is so not going to, at least she will have something to keep her dry until she gets to her warm dry car. I, on the other hand, am walking home in the rain. Surely I deserve this black abaondoned umbrella.

I start walking home. I feel funny. I keep looking over my shoulder. I feel scared. I keep walking fast and get home safely. Phew. Next day, get to work, no keys. Look everywhere, no keys. Now not having keys at my work is a pain in the ass. I don't just stay in one room at my desk. I am up and down and we have doors and rooms all over the huge Victorian home I am blessed to call my office, and I am runnin all day. I just start laughing. I haven't ever lost my keys in the whole three years I have worked there. Ever. Go home, look for the keys, no keys. Have to request new keys. Now, this shouldn't be a big deal, but it is, it's a very big deal. See my keys have my work name on them, and now all the keys and locks have to be changed, for about thirty of us. The operations director, a crotchety 'ol gal who thankfully has a crush on me, isn't having it. At all. I know why all of this is happening. Damn umbrella.

So this morning, I finally find my keys. Phew. In my pants. Duh. I get to work and share the joy. I lock myself outta my office three times. This never happens! I have to return this umbrella. And quick.

So tonight at the gym I decide I am going to put it back where it belongs. I will have no umbrella but it is better than this curse I have put on myself. I hope the previous owner finds it somehow and releases me from this plague that I have created. So when I am getting dressed and returning the umbrella to it's original spot, what are the girls behind me discussing? Karma. Shit you not.

I hope it doesn't rain tomorrow.