Wednesday, December 10, 2008

When Karma has PMS

I have this shirt that I paid entirely too much for. But I loved it. It was all the right colors and I looked good in it. Wallet or vanity? Vanity won out. But I think the Karmic Muffins have seen fit to mess with my moment of weakness because not a single day has gone by where I don’t wear my beautiful shirt and spill some sort of glop on it. Once it was so bad, I took it to the cleaners, and they only partially removed the stain. I refused to admit defeat, though, and bought some Spray ‘N Wash. Great stuff. Voila, I was once again stain free. Until the next time, that is.

So the other day I was determined to spend it stain free. Oh, I achieved what passes for my personal best in maximum adorable-ness. My hair decided to look nice for a change, and my brand new jeans were the perfect choice to go with…my favorite top.

Dare I tempt the Karmic Muffin, that skank hormonal biyatch who manages to arrange for every errant flick of spaghetti sauce or gravy to find its way to the front of my shirt? Hell yes. Why not? I was feeling lucky.

I made it through the whole day. I wore my apron while cooking spaghetti – the scene of the last crime committed against my shirt. Ahha, Mistress Karma, you won’t find me asleep at the wheel this time! Dinner was cooked, and oddly enough, not a single spaghetti glorp graced the front of my apron.

It was 10 p.m. – an entire day…stain free. My favorite shirt looked wonderful! I’d beat the bad juju. I’d prevailed. I celebrated my victory with a granola bar while watching the news. As I changed to get ready for bed, what did I see staring back at me in the mirror like headlights on a foggy night? Not one, but two chocolate stains from my goddamn granola bar. I have never, ever gotten a strain from those damnably good chocco pieces in my granola bar. Why now? Off in the distance I swear I could hear the Karmic Muffin chortling. Fuck. Off to my usual date with Spray ‘N Wash.

I wonder why the Karmic Muffin doesn’t have a problem with my new jeans. They were as fresh as a daisy.

1 comment:

The Hat Chick said...

I am laughing so hard that tears are running down my face. We've all been there. My personal favorite is when I think I look stunning and just as I walk in the door to make my "entrance", I trip. That Vanity will get you every time.