O to have known back then that I’d be spending a year or more in Nepal, Land of Karma!
Had I known then of my current Way, I’d never have sent him that horrible, evil little link–rife with photographic exemplars; that hysterically funny little webpage forwarded innocuously–to my cube mate, friend, father-to-be, and already overworked corporate minion; that disgustingly vile entertainment containing every color perceptible to humankind and entitled, with hyper-germanic precision and literalness, How To Read Your Baby’s Diapers.
No.
I wouldn’t have.
Certainly I’d have forsworn.
I would have simply and rationally thought the better of it…
But such maturity and self-restraint were not to be (no surprise there) and so, today, I choose to believe it is karma which has reared its ugly head. The Great Multi-boweled Beast is lurking, nay, gurgling in the dark of my room, beneath the bed, as I lie, raging with insomnia, on those self-same hot pink-patterned sheets of an earier tale’s unfolding.
At least I can find solace in the knowledge that I will face this Great Beast on a day not spent in transit, not locked in the cabin of an aircraft, high above freedom and readily available toilets, a day wherein both my throne and the blessed instruments of aftermath and emergency will find themselves but steps–mere moments–away when needed!
[Pausing briefly to suppress the computer’s bell-like reminder that my flight to Kathmandu departs in 5 hours, and I must board a taxi in 2.]
Ummmm…or not.
Well then. Forgive me, friends. I must depart. I’d love to tell you about the wonderful foods I ate yesterday–delicious, one and all–but instead I must pay my penance, and sit for a time upon the unforgiving throne of destiny.
Farewell, and I’ll write you again from Nepal, Land of Karma (who is, unquestionably, a bitch).
Your Friend,
—diaper boy
