The Lucky Bitch

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The illustration was custom-made for this post by my amazing & talented friend Camille Talon. Look up her comic strips on her blog 

Sunday evening, I was lying in a burning bath. I washed my hair, finished my ‘Yes to Cucumber’ conditioner. I made a mental note to go and get some during the week. The day after, I randomly got a message from my little sweet bro: “I’ve just won organic mint hair conditioner at the football bingo. I’ll ship it to you.” 

Of course.

My therapist calls this side of me the “Lucky Bitch”.

I grew up with a mum who was struggling to buy food. I’ve always had immoderate ambitions though, so I had to seek support from the universe to make the shit out of my desires happen.

My lucky star shines in a very specific way : all my material needs are being taken care of. People walk at me to offer me jobs, even in improbable situations.  At 19, I was living in Canada on a student visa with no work permit and I was nearing the end of my savings. One day, just like that, I got offered a job in a candy shop whose owner also worked as an accountant at the Inland Revenue. I was assured not to get caught for illegal work. That’s how I could afford to complete my dance studies.

Last time I was house hunting, I had 4 days before eviction to get a place to stay. I found the warehouse of my dreams in 48 hours. Effortlessly.

My list of happy material coincidences goes on and on. People give me stuff, I find coins and objects I need on the street (books, clothes, pieces of furniture) and there are often errors in my favour like at the Monopoly.

(Oh and by the way I work my ass off too. I am lucky, but with a military self-discipline twist.)

My absolute favorite remains the good star of free cosmetic products.

For Christmas, I got an Amazon voucher from work and I renewed all my makeup with it. But Amazon sent me 2 super pricey eye liners instead of one, so, huh, I returned the second one and claimed for a refund, just in case they wouldn’t notice. Not only they didn’t, but they put a part of the amount in cash on my bank account. So, I made cash with a gift voucher from my job. With the balance, I got an organic skin toner and the 2014 World Almanac for my Death Row Companion (I’ll talk about him soon. I’ve recently started exchanging letters with an inmate on the Florida death row, and he asked me for this book.)

Today, I went volunteering at a homeless shelter in East London at 6am, serving breakfast to homeless dudes. Most of them are super cool, smiling, positive, they sometimes make you a good joke or tell you something nice. I even got a phone number. Out of the blue, the manager of the place gave me a Lush powder deodorant just like that, I don’t know why this, and why to me. Even at the homeless shelter I get free beauty products. Isn’t it ridiculous?

I LOVE my Lucky Bitch. She scores every time. I always ride the wave and high five whoever coordinates my life up there. I am profoundly grateful for all the help received.

I am trying to rewire my luck, though. I am lucky indeed, but mostly for the little things that impress and don’t really last, for the surface, for the glitter, for the stuff.

When will I get really lucky? I mean. I’m kinda ready to trade free shampoo for free love. Just sayin’.

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