karmic accountancy

Ok after Helen's post this morning it is clear that the phenomenon of 'karmic accountancy' needs further examination. (After all there may be 90 pence at stake.)

I just googled and found this on karmic accountancy here

'....If one acquires more than he has rightfully earned, he assumes a karmic debt. If one is cheated or robbed of that which is rightfully his, he receives a corresponding karmic credit. If a man's karmic debits and credits have not been balanced out by the time of his transition, that is, death of the physical vehicle, they are carried over until the next incarnation...'

Hmm it kind of goes off on one a bit - but maybe there's something in it? It wasn't something I'd experienced before.

Anyway as I prepared to fly out of the country last month, my passport was whipped away by immigration control and handed to an uncompromising looking official who called me over to a separate cubicle in Departures - where he proceeded to finger the expired visa and shout at me loudly. This was an hour before take off and for some reason I was giggling weakly inside (probably wrong I know) despite threats of imprisonment until the following Monday morning. In the end, the official fed a roll of paper into his rickety dot matrix printer and stabbed my details into his computer before presenting me with a notice of a fine - to be paid within 3 days. He scribbled something that looked like 'MISCREANT' and 'deposit + UK ticket' in ink on one page of my passport before handing it back, smiling. So I was 700 UK pounds out of pocket and I hadn't even left the country. I slunk on to the plane and fumed. Having a husband, daughter, house, company and even a permanently resident imported mother clearly didn't count. Plus I'd paid taxes. I calmed down as I tucked into the tiny but tasty chicken casserole and figured there are people in far worse migratory predicaments.

On the way back in I pushed the trolley through arrivals a little fearfully. I'd paid my fine, had the receipt plus a single ticket back to the UK. I joined a different queue from the rest of my family. Suddenly there was flurry of whistles from the officials at the front. They were smiling and waving, and ushering me over. They joked and bantered and barely glanced at the newly bought UK ticket. They stamped a temporary visa and I was in. Painless.
It was the next day when I ripped through the unopened letters that I came across the tax rebate notice - in rands but the exact equivalent of the cost of fine and ticket.

So maybe it's really just about payback - this karmic accountancy - when it feels wrong and stuff. What goes around etc. I don't know

So Helen that 90p. Hmm maybe there was a bus fare left off your tax return perhaps...?

Crunching

Ooooooo nooooooooooooooooo a deadline I've been avoiding - accounts. Time to sit down and actually do them. I can't stand it. I hate numbers. And it's not just for the tax office - those online returns are a piece of cake - just click 'zero' in all the boxes and press 'send' and say a quick prayer ('next time.....')

No these accounts are for the 'powers that be' and they have their own specially designed, remote-controlled, index-linked, cross-referenced, tabulated accounting 'recon' forms. Is there anything worse in life than customised excel spread sheets with columns that add themselves up at the bottom when you don't even want them to? Why is it that each time a row of figures is added up, it gives a different answer?

And why are numbers so different from words huh? Why can't you corral numbers into interesting groups like words into sentences? Why can't they be handpicked just for the way they sound? Why must they add up?

And before you ask - yes I do have an accountant, but at the moment I'd have to pay him with cardigan buttons and I don't think he'd be too pleased. Went over budget (on re-editing) last year so have to step into his shoes - for now.

And I hate it.