A universe of sarcasm

So then, what woke me up this fine morning at 2:00am.


And dogs playing.

And a cat who is insisting that my closet is his new home.  I have the scratches on my hand to prove it. 

The Tiny Terror doesn’t like sharing his desk space with Chilly Coon Kitty.

I’ll never understand cats, however; I might have a shot at understand Karma.

Here is the definition of Karma according to Merriam-Webster:   “The force generated by a person’s actions held in Hinduism and Buddhism to perpetuate transmigration and in its ethical consequences to determine the nature of the person’s next existence.”

That started another eternal internal conversation. I won’t bore you with the details of that particular train wreck…followed by a mudslide…and a few dozen boulders.

 To summarize: 

  • March is going to suck.  I mean REALLY, REALLY suck.  I’m talking internet trolls/workplace bullies/people who judge the outward me without knowing the inner me.  Not that anything they say is going to be true — just that everybody with a brain is teetering on the edge and all it is going to take is one push for the veneer of civility to burn away. 
  • In 2022 (if I live through 2021):  Reality is going to undergo a redesign, where science and re-imagining is stretched so far outside that box called “rational thought”, I’ll be looking at my comfort zone through a rearview mirror.  

Me:  What is Karma?

The universe/God/whatever:  You reap what you sow.  Whatever goes around comes around.

Me:   I sorta figured that out already.  Can you be a bit more specific?

Whatever:  You always wanted a black cat.  You got what you wanted.

Me:   He enters the house for breakfast and dinner.  When it’s cold, he steals my chair.  If I want to pet him and he doesn’t want to be touched, he redesigns my hand.

Whatever:   Exactly.

Me:  I’m not a picky person.

Whatever:   (echoing silence)

At that point, I made the decision to fetch a bit of Stash decaf Earl Grey tea with 2 tablespoons of raw honey, and a piece of organic whole wheat bread with all natural peanut butter.

Why can’t the universe give me a straight answer?

Perhaps it was a black cat in another life.