I Had it Coming

How karma turns off my autopilot

My restlessness set in on minute (or was it year?) 27. My typically restrained leg bounced wildly. My stomach’s growl was less vicious only than the one desperate to escape my mouth.

I was trapped in a place desolate enough to turn a sane woman senseless--no, not the wilderness… worse. A waiting room.

I often joke that being late is my fatal flaw. The “fatal” part is usually an exaggeration, but it wasn’t this day at the dermatologist’s office. An eternal hour of waiting killed a small part of me.

Without any distractions at hand (I was unprepared to be there this long), I had little to do but sit with my conscience. So, between moments spent wondering when the nurse would rescue me, I got to thinking about karma. After all, I knew my punishment was well deserved.

A detailed analysis of my situation followed suit, considering the people affected and logistical issues I caused (yes, excessive). In any case, pushing back the punctual people in the waiting room would be cruel, and the receptionist was just doing her job. As for myself, well, only I was to blame for my irritation and overanalysis.

By minute 58 I was ready to call in a search party for my will to live. I was done looking through stale magazines, twirling my thumbs, and staring the clock down. There was nothing left to do… but pray. I consulted with my ego, who promptly agreed to take the rest of the day off, closed my eyes, and promised to be better. I would never be late again. I began, “Oh Go-”

“Jenna Weber?”

It was either a karmic miracle or I’m a prophet. I thanked the nurse (and the Lord), triumphantly following my new messiah to the room. Just 30 minutes later, I was a free woman.

A free woman with restored faith and a lesson, at that. So, here is my conclusion: Karma’s a bitch, but she’s also a great navigator. She reminds me to think deeper about which streets I take and how fast I’m driving. If I turn on the wrong road, Karma is first to redirect me from the passenger seat– sometimes gently and other times less so. Conversely, when I do things right, Karma rewards me or reminds me to not take the good for granted.

While I don’t know if I’ll ever be on time to a social gathering, much less a dermatologist appointment, I trust that Karma will be there to greet me when I arrive- as purposeful as she is bold- even if I’m an hour late.

My dad and I enjoying an autopilot-less drive this weekend