Is this karma?

In a former life, I was a commissioning editor publishing academic books. In other words, I was the one who persuaded some poor overworked underpaid academic to work even harder in their spare time for the glory because let's face it, hardly anyone makes a living from writing academic books. Especially if they're on concrete. I suspect I was too nice to my authors because they did keep saying how patient and supportive I was in the acknowledgments sections. Really they did. You can google me and you'll find all these thankyous for my patience in their digitised books. Which is funny, because those who know me in real as opposed to professional life, will testify to my being one of the least patient people they've ever met.

Anyway, it's all come back to bite me now. Tom is writing a book. I'm very proud of him. It's a load of hard work and he's doing it in his spare time and I'm now the long-suffering wife of the acknowledgements section who hasn't seen anything of her husband beyond mealtimes for weeks.