Dear Karma,

As much as I hate to gossip, I had a lengthy talk about you with our mutual friend, Fate, yesterday. Neither one of us are very impressed with you.

I’ve come to learn that Fate isn’t a very trustworthy source, and not very dependant on top of that, but she was correct in pointing out that you haven’t been entirely fair to me lately. For example, when my hard drive died, where were you? Need I point out the countless hours I’ve spent selflessly fixing other people’s computers when I should have been doing homework? And even last year, when my computer crashed, I was excessively nice to the Dell tech support guys and even flirted with them when I thought it would be appreciated. Yet, here I am, finding myself $350 in the hole because you weren’t there for me.

And what about the time I took Jessica from next door to the hospital when she thought she had an epileptic seizure, and spent eight hours with her, even though I had a term paper to write? Well, when I was sick this summer, I drove myself to the hospital. I was alone, it was a beautiful day when I should have been at the beach. I was nearly coughing up a lung, and I still have no idea what was wrong with me. How is that fair?

And what about broken hearts, Karma? I’ll admit that I did some damage in my day. I didn’t follow the rules of monogamy that closely at times, I was selfish, and I made boys cry. A lot. But I thought I was done paying for my crimes. I mean, c’mon, that was over two years ago! Fate once promised she’d help me out, but I didn’t believe her. I believed and trusted in you. And look how far that got me. I've done nothing since except for pay for my crimes. Need I remind you about my stalker? Or the boy who just dissapeared? Or the one who won't even acknowledge I exist anymore?

Really, Karma, I thought you and I had a deal? You know, like I get your back, you get mine? Well, lately you haven’t been getting my back. You’ve just been taking and taking and taking. I’ve been living by your rules for the last year, trying to please you at every given chance. I didn’t run any red lights, I've been (kind of) nice to boys, I’ve been trying to buy sweatshop-free clothing and use organic products. I’ve cut back on my drinking and my casual make-outs, and I’ve diligently been going to my classes. Most importantly, when I realized that I didn’t quite have a grasp of empathy as an emotion, I valiantly made an effort to put myself in other people’s shoes. And when that wasn’t enough, I tried to prove my worth to you by briefly taking a babysitting job for the summer. Not for the money, but because the parents were friends of my parents. I babysat to please you Karma!

Do you understand the weight of that? I don’t even like babies!

There are a number of other issues I could take up with you, dear Karma, but this letter would end up being much too long. And besides, I feel as though some of the issues on my mind should best be taken up with your colleague, God.

In closing, fuck you Karma. You’re not invited to my birthday party.

Cordially,

Jess