This week, I was awarded a tasty little reward at work for a job well done. It was the end of a year and a half of being in a foul mood, working harder than ever, wondering if there was any point, and general disgruntlement. But, the greasy elbows paid off, and there was going to be a little ceremony in my honor.
But, that morning, after rooting around under the sink to come up with a toothbrush, I managed to suck toothpaste into my windpipe. It was thick enough that it immediately cut off my air supply, and I couldn't suck in air with which I could cough out the crap. My nose got all clogged up some how too. I really thought I was going to die.
The sheer desire to not have my obit read that I died from brushing my teeth was what saved me, I do believe. (And, this gives me one more reason to loathe and fear dentists - the toothpaste pushers.)
So, this weekend, I'm doing a bit of routine maintenance to my karma. I donated money to a charity. I gave my evil side kick a day off. I made two gianormous pans of brownies for a local kid's sports team that is having a fundraiser. I surprised the Phenom with a shiny trinket. And, I'll try not to use the "f-word" for the next 48 hours. That oughta keep karma off my back for a little while, no?