Karma Works

So earlier, as you can tell, I was feeling pretty goddamn useless.

Add to that the fact that I was meant to be seeing my girlfriend for dinner (just like Tuesday) and I had to cancel (just like Tuesday) because of work (just like Tuesday) where I felt my existence in the office was meaningless (just like Tuesday).

She was upset (and quite possibly ready to start surfing the crimson wave) and I was pissed. Supremely pissed. I was ready to rain sulphur. I actually wrote a lengthy post of rants and raves and spew and bile until the computer crashed on me.

So I sent a ranty, raving, spewy, bile-filled e-mail to the IT people asking for a computer that doesn't run on arcane technology from the days before the microchip (I actually checked the RAM on the computer. It said '0kb'. That freaked me out).

Annoyed and game for anything, a weird thought popped into my head, and I searched my inbox (with my fingers crossed hoping it wouldn't crash) and found it: an e-mail from Man Method.

In the e-mail was a powerpoint document of 'good karma'. As always with these e-mails, if you send it out to 5 or more people all your dreams will come true and naked women will fall on your lap from the heavens.

Naked, soapy women.

So, in desperation and madness, I sent it out together with this e-mail:

"Apologies for the interuption. This'll all be over shortly.

Ordinarily, I do not believe in this 'forward to five people and get laid instantly' crap, but things aren't exactly moving swimmingly at the moment in the life of Khai, so I've decided to test this out, once and for all.

I've sent this thing out to all of you. Now, if things suddenly get better, I shall be a true believer and give out my credit card details to the nearest scientologist.

If not, I shall accept that life is poo, go down to the LDP and throw live chickens at moving cars.

Cluck-Vroom-Splat.

Because life is too short to not try it out once."

I sent it out to a good 20 people and carried on being pissed. Then it happened.

First, I was called into a meeting. For a good half of the meeting I zoned out, pissed and stewing in my juices.

Not those juices. That would be sticky.

After a while, though, my ears perked up and started listening. I started contributing. I knew what page we were on and I blasted my way through it with mucho gusto, free Dominos Pizza (courtesy of the suits) in one hand and a ballpoint pen in the other. I was contributing. I was helping.

I was useful.

Glad that life at work had a purpose again, I went down after the meeting feeling a lot better and called my girlfriend. I calmed her down, consoled her, chit-chatted and was the sweetest, most caring guy I could be for her.

Glad that she's happy again, I walked over to the computer and chit-chatted with my colleagues. I no longer felt like the fucker with nothing to do. I shared their burden. I was going to be working late with them. I was part of the team again, and we laughed and talked about music, White Zombie blarring out of the speakers Eddy gave me before he went on to greener pastures.

Working away, sketching Vietnamese women and smoking mass amounts of Dunhill's, I checked my e-mail and (as you can see from my last post) my short film will be screened next Monday at the KSFM Malaysian Shorts July Edition screening.

It could all be coincidence, but it looks like, for a while at least, all my friends will be subjected to chain mail madness from me.

Weird. Karma works.

...

...still no sign of the soapy women, though.