Today is Friday the 13th, and I know traditional superstition says that this day should hold back luck, but that’s only because traditional superstitionists (yes, I made that word up, and yes, it shows) weren’t raised by my mother. Mom always said Friday the 13th was a lucky day for her, so I grew up looking forward to each and every Friday the 13th, convinced that something exciting and wonderful would happen to me. After all, the thirteenth day doesn’t fall on a Friday just every month, so when it does, it must be special. (Yeah, yeah, I know—Tuesday the 22nd doesn’t happen every month, either, and nobody thinks that’s special. If it made sense, it wouldn’t be a superstition.)
Anyway, I’ve been waiting for something exciting and wonderful all day. It’s noon, and so far nothing. I haven’t given up hope, though. I still have twelve hours.
If nothing else, I’m having a good hair day.