Well, it’s been a week since I found and turned in that $22 buckaroos and I’m unhappy to report that I’m still waiting for that fabled good-karma-in-kind to come rolling on in. Any day now. Really. Any minute … It should be here.
OK, what gives? I’m starting to lose hope. In the wake of my good deed, I’ve found myself beset by terrible financial luck. Events have conspired to wipe a cool $600 from my checking account in the last week. Just random life stuff. Unexpected bills and expenses. And then, this morning, the dread car trouble. My little Chevy completely died right in downtown Seaside, poetically, a mere 10 feet from the place where I found the $22 and right in FRONT of the sporting goods store that sells those badass flipflops I want so very badly.
I accepted my unhappy fate with decently upshot spirits, I’d say, as I waited for a jump, and then the tow truck, and then a ride to Cannon Beach, where a pile of work was waiting, undone.
Cause, you know. Shit happens. I’ve often said that this is probably the most brilliant pairing of two words ever uttered by a human being. It is just so true. Shit. Happens. Straight up, all the time. Money comes and then it goes, love comes and then it goes, and people do, too. Things get bad, then they get better, then they get worse for awhile, then they get really really good, then they get HORRIBLE, like the WORST EVER, then they get OK again, ad infinitum. We’re all trapped in this mad revolving door and we can’t stop spinning and it’s always been that way. And I accept this. But I gotta say. A shot alternator and a wasted morning and a pretty much double-digit checking account balance are certainly not what I expected to get in kind for my act of brazen selflessness.
So I’ve gotten to thinking. Maybe I’m getting schooled because, really, my good deed wasn’t so very good. Yeah, I did something nice, but it was perhaps secretly only because I wanted something nice in return, and that is sort of a manipulative way of moving through the world. I’d wager that our universe, as cold and implacable as she is, doesn’t take too kindly to being manipulated by the subtle and hopelessly greedy machinations of humans, those strange and crafty creatures whose relative tininess is rivaled only by their inveterate sneakiness. We have our own teeny agendas and perhaps she takes great pleasure in dashing them to bits when they get a wee bit too ambitious. I don’t know.
Maybe I should go play keno or buy a lottery ticket or something.