Karma works in mysterious ways. Unfortunately, so, too, does biology.
Late Friday afternoon, I was curled up on the upstairs futon, waiting for the thunder to pass so that I could get on the treadmill. It was around 6 p.m. so there was little to watch on TV other than the news. I expected to hear about the weather, whatever accidents shut down Atlanta's interstate system that day, and whatever house fires and robberies the WSB deemed important. What I got instead was an end-of-the-week pick-me-up.
As it turns out, two people that I interviewed with last year are now under investigation by the state for running full-time law practices on the state's dime (they're also full-time state employees) and for firing the employee who blew the whistle on them. These two people, if they're who I think they are, were particularly nasty to me during the interview, so much so that I actually considered getting up and leaving mid-interview. I didn't do it. I stuck it out until the bitter end, but the thought was there.
If you want an example of their nastiness, here's one. They actually told me that they had no idea why I was there and that had they, rather than their secretary, scheduled the interviews, they would have never scheduled me. Nice, huh?
Anyway, the news that their nastiness came around and bit them in their karmic behinds made what had otherwise been a bad week for me. I was so happy about it that I called the only person I knew would answer the phone--Chain Smoking Granny.
After telling her about the news report, we somehow started talking about other people who we thought would one day find themselves in the same situation (i.e., having the whistle blown on their bad behavior). When referring to one person in particular, Chain Smoking Granny repeatedly uttered this one line that meant something far different than what she intended it to mean.
"I hope one day he gets blown."
*****sigh*****
If only I could claim adoption.
