cashie’s law

My luck sucks.  In one way and one way only.  Blackjack.  If I wasn’t a master card counter, I’d lose my shirt every time I played.  As it stands, I tend to do pretty well.  My winnings typically pay for my trip to Las Vegas.  Not bad.  Otherwise though?  My.  “Luck”.  Is.  Incredible.  I’ve thought a lot about this. I’ve thought about why my friends refer to “Cash Life” (seriously)  every time something extraordinary happens to me.  They expect it.  So do I.  In reflecting on my good fortune, one thing jumps to mind.  I truly believe the best things are coming to me.  All the time.  Every time.  I’m rarely wrong.  The volcanic optimism that infuses my life is sometimes (but rarely) surprising even to me.  Nonetheless, it, or something, gets the job done.

Years ago, I gave up on negative mojo.  I purposely let black cats walk in front of me.  I started celebrating each Friday the 13th as a personal holiday.  Whatever I could say to possibly “jinx it” (whatever “it” was)?  Oh, I said.  Sometimes repeatedly.  Rarely did it in fact “jinx it”.

I believe I live a blessed life, and, by and large.. I most certainly do.

On the other hand, we have Cash’s least favorite people on earth.  The Defeatists.  These are the people that think the world, destiny, and that blind hobo begging for change on the corner are all “out to get them”.

“Woe is me, I’m doomed to fail.”

Bullshit.  In my mind anyway.

One example of this, from a lifetime of hundreds?

One of my coworkers.  She is defeatism personified.  Ants at the picnic.  A bunk pill at the rave.  Just dour.  Her and I are part of the on-call rotation.   This rotation lasts one week.

You can always tell when her week is about to start.  She’s complaining, loudly, about how gawd awful it’s gonna be.  She’s lamenting plans she can’t keep because of it.  She’s cursing the “dumb ass customers” she’s gonna have to deal with.

You know what?  She’s usually right.  Most of the true “disasters” that have cropped up for our company have happened on her watch.  During her on-call rotation.

How about me?  When it’s my turn to take that dreaded office Blackberry, I literally say to myself (often outloud, if the boss isn’t around) “This is gonna be an easy, relaxed on-call week.”

You know what?  I’m usually right.  Since I’ve been in the rotation (over a year) I’ve had exactly 2 ‘big issues’ crop up that demanded any sort of significant work on my part.

Coincidence?  Maybe.

Also, maybe not.

To try and help you out, dear readers, I propose retiring one long held ‘law’ and hiring a new one.  “Murphy’s law” stipulates that “whatever can go wrong, will, and at the worst possible time.”  Gawd lawd.  That hurt to type.  Let alone think about.  Utter blasphemy.

Instead, I offer you, “Cashie’s Law”:

“Whatever can go right, will, and at the best possible time.”

I’ve been around ___ years, and it’s worked wonders for me.

Perhaps it can do the same for you.