First my cat died. Then my new boyfriend broke up. Now I’ve just missed the first day of our French course in Chamonix. And I had to sleep on gravel and pay a fortune for train tickets from Nice to Chamonix. Someone not smiling at me any longer. What happened? Where is the good karma? I thought for myself while sitting on the train.
Early in the morning a woman picked us up from the roundabout and brought us back to Nice. We got train tickets and twelve hours later we would arrive, in time for the next days (read todays) course in French.
But hey, maybe this is good karma. It will be a good story to tell my grankids, and in the end that’s all I want my life to be: a hell of a good story.