I lead a blessed life.
I’ve been predicting the eventual drainage of whatever luck I have, but so far, the chips have been falling in my favour; everything that’s resembled an obstacle has conveniently morphed itself into something pleasant. Or it’s been magically wished away.
Therefore, I shall now do the familiar:
My luck’s going to run out on me before I know it.
There. I’ve signaled the death-knell once again.
Happenstance can’t be dancing with me forever.