Karma is a bitch. So am I. Two will enter. One will leave.

Kismet         [If it's fated]
Inshallah      [God willing]
Fate              [Destiny]
Karma          [You know this one]

All of these things conspired against and/or with me last week to keep me from sliding from bitchdom to jerkhood.

Let me explain:

As I may have mentioned a time or a million, I have been PTA president this past year at my daughter's school.  So I've spent a lot of my time and money on crap for this school that, quite frankly, sometimes was done grudgingly.  But I did it.  I did it and you know what? In the end, I'm glad I could help out.  I like to organize things and I like to be in charge and I like to make a difference.

I do NOT like it when I feel like I'm being dickslapped by the universe.

I spent hours and hours and money on the end of the year party for the school.  Fine.  Even though I thought it was ridiculous, I stepped up when no one else did and organized it.  I ran the set up and I ran the party and I oversaw the cleanup.  I worked my ass off for that school.

At which point I found out I owed the school $50.

The girl tells me that somehow she's had someone else's textbook for one of her classes all year, he's had someone else's, three or four other people have different books registered to them and no one seems to know what happened to hers. Obviously, there's been some sort of mix-up in registering the books.  OBVIOUSLY.

The teacher sends me a nice, very detailed email about the missing book.  And the note that he is truly, truly sorry, but I have to pay $50 or the girl's grades won't be sent to her new school.

FUCKING MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKING BULLSHIT. 

I'm sorry, did I not just spend countless hours dealing with school crap that, had I billed at even a reduced rate for writing and NOT legal work, would still mean I was a couple thousand dollars in surplus for who owes what to whom? And didn't I just spend money on party donations? 

I don't blame the teacher.  Much.  I mean, I get it, it's district policy. 

But I was pissed.  The secretary was on my side and felt bad that she had to take my check.

So the entire drive to the school to hand over my $50 check, I kept thinking, "Fuck this.  I know there's at least $50 worth of candy & stuff from the party that I can take to even shit out.  I DESERVE $50 worth of candy." Even though I knew the kids were going to use the stuff on their trip to the amusement park a few days later.

Except as I was thinking it, I was getting that shame feeling, like I knew I was doing something really, really, really wrong.

So I dropped off the check and went to the storage room, because I had told the staff I needed to stop in there and I had to keep up appearances and not say, "Yeah, I changed my mind.  I'm not taking $50 worth of candy in return for the $50 book check."  I wasn't going to take any candy because that would result in me waiting for karma to turn around and kick me in the ass HARDER than the $50 check.  Which it would. And frankly? I've got enough on my plate.

And you know what? The fates had my back - because the candy was gone, so I wouldn't even be tempted [and in the throes of PMS? I WAS TEMPTED.].

Tell me, truly, would you have taken the candy?  I like to think I wouldn't have, even if it was there, not only because I am trying to be a better person, but also because I kind of fear the retribution.  What about you?

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Seriously.

Go away.

The alarm went off at 6:30 this morning, because we are responsible adults and one of us (not me) had to go to work. I somehow managed to drop the iHome remote and then went to the bathroom and left Mr. Working Man to deal with the REALLY LOUD AC/DC music (don't judge).

And then we went back to bed for a few minutes and woke up at 8:00 to find out that the power was out.

So, I thought, no big. I'll bake chicken . . . nope. I'll vacuum . . . not even. I'll iron and watch a movie . . . uh, no. I'll hit the treadmill . . . in my dreams.

So I packed up all the laundry and my laptop and went to my parents' house - because evidently gentle rain doesn't take out their power lines.

And then I tried to hit the rec center to go swimming - driving in a torrential downpour only to find that the rec center had lost power and the pool was closed. And I had no tennis shoes to hit the track or the treadmills (which were running off a generator - I call foul. The generator should be for the pool, which I use. Because I drove there in a torrential downpour. I DESERVED TO WORK OUT.). Instead, I went back out in the rain and drove to my parents and chatted with my dad while he altered some suits for me and I did laundry. Good times.

And then I got a phone call from my mother-in-law, from an urgent care over 1,000 miles away, telling me that The Kid had been bitten by a spider and they needed my permission to treat her.

TREAT AWAY!

It turns out that she WASN'T bitten by a spider, but instead by a mosquito and the bite had gotten infected.

This is the THIRD time this has happened this summer. So fuck mosquitoes.

The end.