I’m not really one for superstition. 13 would be my lucky number, if I believed in numbers being lucky. It’s more like my pet number. I like it because no one else does, and it’s cute and just wants to be loved, and I suspect it’s just misunderstood. Anyway.
So I’m not on the lookout for bad luck today. That would be silly. Plenty of bad luck finds me regardless of the day! Besides, today is a milestone for me.
Woulda Coulda Shoulda is one year old. (What a long, strange trip… oh, you know.) Happy blogiversary to meeeeeee!
But that’s not what I was thinking about when I woke up, today. That realization came somewhere between brushing my teeth and reiterating that it’s one sock PER FOOT (and wearing two socks on a single foot does not get one off on a technicality).
What I was thinking about when I woke up was that last night I was asked to sing at a wedding next month. I was very flattered, and after a quick calculation of the payment being (when you figure it over time expended) a higher rate than I’ve ever earned as an engineer, I agreed. So I was thinking all the standard things that I tend to think before I perform: what if I screw up, what if I totally suck, what if there’s a mic problem, what if I have to pee? Etc.
And then I realized, the wedding is on my… uhhh… anniversary. Or–as I like to call it, now–my unniversary. Huh.
It’s not that I’m any stranger to bad omens, you understand. It’s just that I’ve not (so far as I know) actually BEEN one, before.
13 and me… we understand each other.