Cursed

I am living with some serious bad juju. Like Drag Me to Hell/I crossed a gypsy/there’s a wax doll somewhere that looks a lot like me bad juju.

Saturday my sister drops off Mitzi the cat to stay with me while her family is on vacation. Happy to do it. Better than her being in a kennel. Guess what. I think I’m allergic to cats. Last year while Mitz was with me for the first half of the year, I thought I was having an unusually bad allergy season. But within hours of Mitzi being in my home, I went from the light sniffles of cottonwood season to a full on case of sinusitis with accompanying itchy eyes, sneezing and rampant phlegm. I leave the house, and withing a half hour, things are better. Great thing to find out at 40. Allergic to cats. Who knew?

So, if I’m in the house, I don’t have the energy to clean the house, which is what I planned to do. But if I leave the house, I have yet to really perfect the telekinesis enough to remotely run the vacuum cleaner and load the dishwasher. Kind of a catch 22.

So, by the time I have to go back to my rat hole of a messy house, I’m laying on the couch with the cat suffering, when I realize I’m suffering and also sweating. And why hasn’t my air conditioner shut off in the last hour? Oh, because it’s churning out warm humid air. That’s all. God bless America. Luckily my condo has 2 units. So I was able to decamp to the upstairs. But still. I can’t get the air conditioner fixed until I get rid of the cat. Repairmen and cats, not such a good thing. And I wonder how much this one’s going to cost me.

Then on Sunday, I run over to the Kroger to get corn tortillas for T because she’s making shrimp enchiladas for the Sunday get together dinner. And if there are shrimp enchiladas, I’m willing to go the extra mile for the good tortillas. I come out laden with Big K club soda and tortillas, and my car won’t start. At all. Went from no signs of trouble to deader than dead, just like that. Son of a biscuit. I got a friend to give me a lift to the Wally World for a new battery. Now the lights go on, but no spark to the engine. Yada yada yada, Monday morning, wait 3 hours to get towed, yada yada, get to work late, yada yada, $500 plus the tow.

Then at work, huge print job to go out, the color printer goes on the fritz half way through. My mistake. I touched it. And I’m CURSED.

72 hours of pure pain in my ass.

So at this point, I have to acknowledge that something’s blocking my chi, or there’s a spot on my aura, or the loa are pissed at me. Something. I’m about to where I’m going to get a bale of sage and smudge my entire house, and get a chicken to sacrifice. This is not hyperbole talking. Something is way wrong, and I’ve got to get it before I get turned into a Baby Doc zombie.

So if anyone has any surefire methods for shaking off the bad gris-gris, I’m all ears. Dead serious, people.