An 8 today, and something comes back round

Dear Reader,

My neighbour brought our bin in on Monday, the way she has for about four years, and there is no arrangement between us that covers it. I thought about that this morning because of the number today is running.

Eight is the number of return. Things come back round on an 8, and most of what comes back was set going so long ago that you stopped watching the door.

So today often carries news with figures in it. An invoice settled without a reminder. A rate confirmed. A decision made about your work by somebody two floors up.

Eight listens to the quiet ledger too. Almost everybody keeps one. What you think you are worth, what you think you are owed, what you would be embarrassed to be caught wanting.

If something lands easily there is no catch waiting behind it. Ease is a poor guide to whether a thing was deserved, though we all use it as one.

Take the whole of whatever turns up.

A good deal of what an 8 returns never reaches a bank account, so it goes uncounted.

The school run somebody else does on Thursdays. A spare room for a fortnight. The friend who looks over your contracts and waves away the offer of paying. Someone who says your name in a meeting you weren’t in.

All of that has a price if you had to buy it, and none of it shows up when people tally what kind of year they are having. Which is how somebody can be well looked after and feel thin at the same time.

Eight has always covered both. Standing, reputation and the favours people do you sit in the same number as the invoices, because they run on the same thing: whether the world thinks you are good for it.

Counting today is optional. It is just worth knowing your year may be richer than the figure at the bottom of the statement suggests.

You are allowed to be carried by people this week without evening it up.

A big hug,

Lucky Number