The long, dark audit of the Soul

I often feel that examining the state of your soul is a little like looking at your bank balance at the cash machine when you've not kept any records of your outgoings for a year or so. Or like needing a checkup at the doctor's and not really wanting to go. You think there may be something nasty going on there, but your think to yourself - maybe not just now. Maybe another day. Better just walk away from the woodshed once more.

And we can have a vision of God as the Eternal Auditor. The one who opens the books at the end of time, adds up the credits and the debits, and sees which way your lifetime's P&L has gone. Better have plenty on the heavenly balance sheet, you may think, where you know it's not going to get written off as unrealisable assets. If you think that way. And you could think, in that case, of your confessor, priest, pastor or preacher as your earthly accountant, the one who keeps the books in line and helps you to keep focussed on the final dividend before you the Eternal Auditor gets hold of the books. And if you find there's some unexplained expenses, or a dubious write-off, or something accruing where it shouldn't - they'll help you to see it and deal with it.

All of which is a roundabout way to explaining why I was so keen that Burton went to Spring Harvest when I heard that Drayton was going. He's not finished the Year End yet. And he's going to be ever so surprised when he discovers that this year's Expense Claims have gone up in smoke again. Especially when you consider that he's kept them in that electronically-locked, bombproof, passworded, fire-proof safe to stop them exploding this year.

The password was Fly1ngSc0tsman. It didn't take long.