As most of you probably realize, yesterday was, in fact, the infamous Friday the 13th. A day known for its bad luck.
However, yesterday my entire day turned out amazing.
I overslept, but still got to class before it started. None of my group members showed up, but the teacher was surprisingly helpful and I breezed through the work, so I was able to leave after only two hours of the four hour class time. On the way home I decided to get my favorite sandwich from Panera Bread, since it’s the Octave of Easter and therefore I didn’t have to give up meat for the day as my family and I customarily do on Fridays. I even ended up having enough cash in my wallet for the sandwich AND a frozen carmel coffee drink, so I didn’t have to charge it to my card. Later on in the evening I went to the monthly Tolkien club meeting, where I got to hang out with friends and watch LOTR cartoons that are always good for a laugh, particularly the “Return of the King” one that got my 10 year old self into LOTR to begin with. I hadn’t seen it in years and years. Gosh that was funny. It’s such a dumb cartoon. XD
So, that was my Friday the 13th.
This morning, however, I was roused from bed by my little brother saying that I had to take him to a soccer game at 10. It was 9:35. I was really upset because I HATE sitting through soccer games, and way to give me a lot of warning. So I threw on some clothes and did a quick brush through of my hair, figuring that that was good enough. When I brushed my teeth, I somehow managed to split my lower lip open, and now it burns like cuss.
We get to the soccer game. I sent my brothers out into the rain to play their sports while I immersed myself back into the book I am currently reading, The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien. So for awhile, I was able to lose myself in this world:
Anyways, I left my car running so that I could stay warm and because my car often has trouble starting back up after I turn it off, so I didn’t want to be stranded in there.
FINALLY my brothers finish their lonnnng games. One more reason why I would be an awful parent: I HATE sitting through sports games. They drive me nuts. So needless to say, I am happy to be leaving.
Little brother is walking closer to the car. I can soon leave.
*Knock knock knock.*
I look over and there’s a guy knocking on my car window. So I put down my book and roll down the window. He asks me if I’m aware that the back tire of my car is flat.
Of course. Of COURSE the tire is going to be flat, just as I can leave!
I called my dad, who happened to be out on the road and not too far away. We meet at the nearby gas station and he helps me refill the tire with air, which should keep it driveable until we get home and a more permanent solution can be found. Problem solved. Let’s start up the car and go home.
And therein lies the next problem. “Let’s start up the car”. No, my car will have none of it. She will not start.
My dad decides that this problem has gone on long enough. He takes his car to go and get a new starter for my car (that’s what the problem is, faulty starter) while my mother (who was with my dad) and my little brothers and I walk across the parking lot to Wendy’s to get something to eat.
While there, my mom meets some neighbors that she knows. I don’t know them, but apparently they know me. They remembered that I had been featured in one of the local papers with a book that I’d written (“Christina Rose”; see my “Projects” page). It’s always nice to be recognized for your work, right? Yes, it is. But there’s one problem.
Remember my super fast get ready session that I told you about earlier? Yeah, well, combine that with standing out in the gas station parking lot being windblown, and I looked like crap. Not even like a mess. Like CRAP. Not to mention I had just thrown on whatever clothes were lying nearby, since I was not expecting to get out of the car today. This means that my outfit consisted of my baggy black yoga style pants and my pink Bigfoot shirt. My hair was also in desperate need of washing, which I had not been able to accomplish due to the short amount of notice I had in the morning. Add on top of all that the fact that I was eating a chicken sandwich. And there is no graceful way to eat fast food burgers, trust me.
“Are you the daughter who wrote the book, and was in the paper?” I almost didn’t want to say yes.
We went back and tried to start the car again because it had had time to cool down. Still a no go. You could smell electric burning scents everywhere because the starter was just putting up a massive fight, protecting its right to be lazy. Finally we had to jump it. Since my car started being so tempermental, and a jump is usually the only thing that can wake it up, I’ve begun carrying jumper cables with me everwhere I drive. So out they came from the trunk. Even with the jump the car made some weird groaning sounds before it finally accepted defeat and started.
Now my dad has just come in from the barn and made the announcement that the problem with my tire is that there’s a nail embedded in it. How that happened, I have no idea.
So, here’s my reasoning. Friday the 13th is supposed to be unlucky, but for some reason everything got switched around and I ended up having an extremely lucky day where things worked out in my favor. Therefore, the awful and Friday the 13-ish events of today can only be explained by one thing:
Karma got so mad that I got a good Friday the 13th that it decided to kick me in the butt when I was least expecting it, namely, Saturday the 14th.
I think we should all start fearing Saturday the 14th instead. In my experience, it has been far more dangerous than any Friday the 13th I have experienced.