Dear higher being to which I ascribe quite a lot of power,

I get that I am a bad, awful person who seriously fucked some shit up in a previous life. Yes, it makes sense that I should have all of this visited back on me: wrists that start not working, right when I'm finally feeling like I just might be smart enough for grad school; a disastrous dating life that goes out of its way to make it known that I will be alone and lonely for the rest of my undeserving life; sundry anxiety issues that make interacting with people hell on earth most days. Sure, why not? Whatever I did, I'm sure I deserve all of this. I'll take it.

But WHAT. THE. FUCK. Did my little baby kitten ever fucking do to you? I used to believe that you were a fairly benevolent, if karmic-ly aware, kind of being. Fuck that. The damn fucking Greeks had it right: you (plural? who cares?) are a malicious, spiteful, uncaring jackass.

And I can't take much more of this.

CJ