Don’t quote me on this, but … there is a fixed and finite amount of karma on this earth and I have recently been given more than my share of the good stuff.
I sort of knew this already. It’s one of those things you sense when events are going too well, when news – if there is any – is too consistently positive, when people start looking at you with expectant smiles on their faces, as if they’re sure you’re about to tell them something fun, and you can usually oblige.
I assumed, as you do, that I was using up my own karma. At some stage a Bad Thing will happen. Several, probably. Plagues, disease, lack of book-buying interest, roof falling in. Type of thing. But then I started to wonder (picture my Carrie voice here): am I using up other people’s karma too? I mean, I’ve definitely over-borrowed on my own. Has life started raiding other people’s accounts on my behalf?
And then I found out the answer. Went to one of those events where you can call yourself an author and people don’t fall about laughing or look at you as if you’re seriously unwell (in fact, they usually just offer you a Pimms refill) and discovered tale upon tale of woe. Or, if not woe, then confusion and uncertainty. Or, if not confusion, resigned patience. Came home and discovered more tales of woe.
So now it’s official. I am using up your karma, and I apologise. I’m sure it won’t last forever and no doubt normal service will be resumed at some stage shortly, probably when I’m least expecting it, and I’ll be ungrateful and annoyed. But meanwhile, if you’re wondering where it went, you need look no further.
Oh, and my son won the maths cup at school today. It’s on the mantelpiece now. It runneth over.