Thursday the 12th

In the fifth grade I slipped on some ice and split my upper lip on the sidewalk curb. It happened to be on a Friday the 13th.

Ever since then, Friday the 13th has been like any other day, no more unlucky than any other day. Except that I was recovering from all the horrors of Thursday the 12th, which brings me nothing but bad luck.

I shouldn't say bad luck. I don't really have much bad luck. But bad days. Days where I run into traffic, or forget to bring my computer to work, or remember I have a paper due at 3pm, or wake up with a horrible splitting headache at 4:30 am because the baby is crying and thinks it's time to get up and he doesn't care that your sinuses are clogged or that you've started coughing up green alien guts.

I took today off, in laundry, room painting, and cooking terms. And I flicked the TV on early.