It’s just no good at all when your husband thinks a chin hickey is an appropriate expression of sentiment. Anyone got concealer?
Okay, this post isn’t actually about that. I just had to get that off my chest. But have you ever had a day where a series of seemingly innocuous minor frustrations build up until you explode? A day where you think you’ve got it under control until something tiny, like getting a blister, reduces you to vitriol and tears? Hyperbole and a Half calls it the “Sneaky Hate Spiral”. Hate’s a strong word, but the concept is valid all the same.
I had one of those days. A day just full of stress and worry and no time to get it all done.
I was in the kitchen, prepping dinner. I had the mortar and pestle in front of me and I was mashing garlic and chili peppers like they were heretics and I was the Spanish Inquisition. Bang bang bang. Then, out of nowhere – well, not nowhere, exactly, since it was out of the mortar – so, out of the mortar flew a chili seed straight into my eye.
I dropped the pestle and cried out in pain and burning and rushed to flush my eye out with water. I teared up like crazy, stomped around, and basically couldn’t do anything for 5 whole minutes until my eye started to go back to normal.
I sat there, whimpering in misery, until I just had to laugh at myself.
This is what you get. Get angry at the world and you’ll be the one with chili in your eye.
I don’t believe in karma in the sense of: in the next life you’ll be a dog, kind of karma. (Although, when we went to the temple on Sunday, my sister was praying that in the next life she’ll be a famous singer or entertainer, but my aunt was praying that, in the next life, she’ll just skip this whole “human” thing altogether and move on to the next level.) But I do believe in karma, in the sense that, whatever you put out will come back to you.
And apparently, if you put out spice, it’ll come right back. In your eye.