I can think of five dudes that owe me money, and four of them are exes. My husband nearly busts a forehead vein if I so much as mention any of these petty debts. How can I not seethe with anger over these losers of my past who treated me so poorly and didn’t have the decency to repay $200 here or $3000 there, he demands?
Well, the way I see it, all that money goes into my karma bank. I’ll never go broke because where I was there, albeit suckered into it, for each of them, should the need arise, someone will be there for me.
It isn’t just with money.
It’s with everything. It’s the manuscript I’m begging a friend to proofread, the ear I lend to a friend in need. What goes around comes around.
For example, I’ll always have a blow dryer if I need one. A beer. Chapstick. A ride home. A shoulder to cry on. Two weeks ago I needed boom-pow butt jeans. Got ’em. Two days ago I needed a hug. Got it.
Thanks karma bank. And thank you to those who helped fill it, even the dirty, lying, thieving, no good exes.
:}Amber Scott (looking for a bestselling book bank next…)