I don’t consider myself a terribly superstitious person, but that’s a subjective viewpoint and someone else might look at me and think very differently. Or they might look at me and think, I think that guy owes me money. (I don’t, though.)
One of the things that does seem to bother me, though, is the number thirteen. When swimming, I go faster between laps twelve and fourteen, and when doing miles on the treadmill, I always plan the day’s work so that I don’t end on thirteen.
And here it is, Friday the Thirteenth.
I think I read somewhere that thirteen was originally considered unlucky because there were thirteen people at the Last Supper, and we all know where that led.
Otherwise, I don’t have a clue. I could look it up on the internet, I suppose, and laugh at my primitive foolishness, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, it wouldn’t be funny for the other people. Like the ones who think I owe them money.
They don’t seem to think anything’s funny, though.