Sunday, January 12, 2014
You see I am by trade an accountant in a small company owned by a complex, brilliant entrepreneur who often does Rain Man math in his head whilst hurtling down the freeway and conversing on the phone with us office types. I'm sure he's texting others as well. Since tag I'm it for the year end process for his multiple companies (including the main corporation which employs almost forty people) I am always a busy chick in January. So let's amp up a sparkly new HR process for our beloved work force right smack in the soft midsection of Oh My God I'm Trying to Close the Books and cap it with a nice frosting of multiple hours of "Why Won't My Software Back up Tech Support Hell" If you've ever called your utility company during a power outage or the IRS on April 14th, you may comprehend my pain, just a little. Thus compileth my first official foray into the milieu that is 2014.
Of course the minions could not possibly have realized that I, having compiled my own personal goals started them that same week. Woman cannot survive on white bread, chocolate and cheese indefinitely and I picked this year to excommunicate them from my kitchen after a December of indulgence befitting Caesar. And then there's that little exercise DVD set I bought in June. Let's not forget that bit of daily torment, shall we?
Suffice it to say, I slid into my weekend with my brain wrung out and my body lamenting the extra layer of seal fat I've acquired over the past two decades of living the Murkin Dream. That's when the bell rang for round two of the onslaught against the reigning champion of Casa De Boehm. He's tall, he's grizzled, he said yes in 1990 and death hath not yet parted us. Bring on them honey do's. (he gets stuff to work without burning down the castle and fixes the chariot, I dole out the pittances to various soul sucking entities, make pretty words form sentences and run all manner of administrative affairs. We both run the scullery and kill vermin. Its how we roll.)
I haul out Saturday morning and brace myself for my "I just need your help with this and this and this purgatory when my dear HOH (head of household) tells me "Sasha is missing." And there it is. Karma is a feline and she hath just scatted mightily and with great scent upon my breakfast gruel. The resident feline and I have raised hating on each other to a high art - so complete is my loathing that upon her absence the Spare's eyes were upon me expecting me to break out in spontaneous song and dance. (Like Princess Di I have an Heir and a Spare) He unfortunately was devastated as he had been the bearer of the short "you have to put Karma outside tonight" stick and had neglected to bring her back in and all on the cusp of bathing her 17 year old, graying feline parts earlier in the day. As the morning progressed into afternoon we could feel the Karmic squeeze around our hearts in the knowledge that our feline was no longer capable of weathering below freezing temperatures another night. Suffice it to say, when we came home from a scout around the block to find her Feline Badness munching kibble and growling into her bowl as we mauled her and cried (well I cried) there is a sense of peace once again in the castle. I'm even less sure about her personal safety outside after discovering that one set of adjacent neighbors has at least eleven cats....all staring us down as we walked by as though we had catnip tied around our necks.
The thing about Karma though is this. Grace can counter any bad JuJu you may accidentally spill in your lap as you're blasting at the speed of light through this thing called life. Some lessons like "you left the old cat out all night because you were distracted and tired and she died" aren't worth learning. Sometimes it's so much better to know you have a Creator who listens when you cry out "I'm sorry. I made a mistake with something I'm tasked to steward. Please help me make this right." or perhaps "Please God. Help my kid. There are other consequences bristling in his future. He already understands how hard life can get. He's already had a pet die in his arms. Spare him this."
I don't believe I had to convince God by begging for the life of a small, irritating, aged feline who exists merely to make my life difficult. I didn't tear my hair and storm the gates of Heaven. I just asked for help for my kid because I'm the mom and my children are under my specific spiritual authority and I am equipped to ask for things on their behalf. I know God is the Author of life and will agree with a life running its course to its completion. And I don't believe that God invented Karma. We humans did. What we do can and does come back to us - good or bad - but its not God batting the unholy ball back in the direction of our soft underparts. We chose to throw it. In this case, I think God gently intervened and let us walk on this one. Take your base, Boehms. I love you.
Tomorrow is another day and even though I've lobbed enough karmic goo out there into the stratosphere to keep me dodging the rebounds and aftershocks for the rest of my life I know I'm gonna be ok as is everything under my jurisdiction. With God batting for me I can get the books done, the year's closed, all the mighty new year projects ticked off, the kid helped and yup even the cat protected against a world of feral felines, roaming coyotes and whatever else lurks in the darkness under the neighbor's trailer. Life is good. Bring it on 2014. I'm ready for you.