I’m not superstitious. Really. Yes, I find it strange that there’s an ambulance #13 that makes the rounds on the streets where I live. And yes, I think that the Cubs’ curse has less to do with a billy goat than it does with Wrigley Field’s ZIP code of 60613 (look it up if you don’t believe me). And yes, one year in little league I asked my mom to sew the numbers 1 and 3 on my baseball uniform as “31” because years of being #13 didn’t help me very much. For the record, I do think I played a bit better that year. Thanks, Mom. But all in all, 13 is just a number like any other.
I’m sure there are some reasons why people get wigged out about Friday the 13th. But at least it’s a Friday, and there’s a whole weekend to recover from whatever bad things may happen that day. A glimpse at today’s calendar reveals an even worse day: Monday the 13th.
If there really is a Hell, they don’t use calendars there. Every day, if there even are days, is a Monday. And weekends and Hell seem to be mutually exclusive terms.
So today, being both a 13th day AND a Monday, could turn out really bad. Probably it won’t, but if anything does come along today, at least I’ll have something to pin it on.