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Karma is a Total Be-yotch

I must be in some kind of karmic circle of hell tonight. I don’t know why, but I have turned into some kind of one-woman demolition crew since I got home.

Gracie (the dog) was away for a couple of weeks (traveling the world—Bakersfield—on the dog show circuit, naturally) and they ran out of her food when she was gone. She was fed another flavor of the same brand so I didn’t think much of it, and when she got home I started feeding her normally. Apparently, that wasn’t such a hot idea, because when we were at work yesterday she hurled about a month’s worth of food up about five times and had diarrhea—in our bedroom. We were keeping her in there during the day because she’s in heat and we can’t leave her in the yard (please don’t write to me about not fixing her. I know.) She already stunk like a whore after a long day of work, but now she smells like a drunken whore with a hangover.

And now, so does our bedroom.

I know, drunken whore or not, I love her

I know, drunken whore or not, what's not to love

We’ve been trying to clean it up for two days now, but I just can’t get the smell out yet. So this afternoon we dumped a bunch of baking soda on the carpet to neutralize the smell, and when I went to vacuum it up tonight, the damn vacuum belt broke. I have a Kirby vacuum, which normally rocks my world. But changing the belt is a test of patience in the biggest way. I start out with a good attitude. I sweet talk it before I approach it slowly, and each time I think the whole maneuver will go smoothly, but somehow it never does.You have to line things up a certain way, make sure the height is set at a certain position, yada yada, yada.  There’s like a 35-point explanation in the instruction manual. The sun, the moon and the stars have to be in alignment for the damn thing to go on and engage. Rarely, does it happen on the first go-around. Tonight’s battle lasted 45 minutes, included a whole lotta F-bombs, a few swift kicks, one smack, one husband, and three broken nails (no husband was harmed in the installation of the belt). I was pissed by the end of the battle.

Since I was already cleaning, I decided to clean our wood floors because Gracie so kindly left a trail of blood down the hallway. She is like a walking crime scene. Not only did she drip, but at some point she must have shaken herself because there was a web-like splatter on the wall (really, we’re not that ghetto). It looked like CSI Suburbia. I cleaned those floors so well, that when I went to put the mop back in the garage, I slipped and fell on my ass in the hallway. And broke another godamned nail.

When I went into the bathroom in the hall to rinse out the sponge from cleaning up the forsensic mess on my wall, I knocked one of my favorite candle holders off the sink and it shattered. And, yes, I broke another farking nail.

I don’t know if I’m just a one woman wrecking crew tonight or if this is some kind of karmic payback. If so, whatever I did. I’m sorry. Please make it stop.


5 Responses

  1. O.M.G.!!!!! You broke TWO nails??? I think this post is important for me today because I’ve been contemplating getting a dog.

    • I broke three nails actually.

      Aww, you should totally get a dog (if you were serious). This is just what happens if you put your dog in someone else’s hands.

  2. I am laughing so hard reading this…sorry MO I am laughing with you not at you. I say burn some incense and hopefully that clears the karma thing. XOXO

  3. My lord, woman, what did you do? How could you not remember doing something that brought about such dire karmic consequences?

    And, I had a Kirby once so I know exactly what you’re talking about with the belt. But it was a great vacuum. 🙂

  4. oh no….she is too cute to be mad at!

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