Step On a Crack

I was fascinated by superstitions and ghosts and anything unexplained when I was growing up. Over the years, I've hardened into a cynical skeptic on most things, so much so that I adopted thirteen as my favorite number. I believe luck is only coincidence with another label. That is why when I booked our flight to Nebraska on April 13, it never once occurred to me that was a Friday. It wasn't until my friend and then later John's cousin pointed it out to me that I knew.

John's family in general has a tendency to be superstitious and believe in good and bad luck, so his cousin was quite concerned about our flight choice and made clear she would never flirt with such disaster. It's a day. The planets are not aligned. It's not Y2K. We are flying on what I've read is one of the better airlines out there. To top it off, we have no choice. John has no more vacation days to spare thanks to all the time he had to take off for Booie's illness, so we have to leave Friday and come back Monday to minimize his absence to one day that he can make up. It all makes perfect sense to me, and I think it's unbelievably silly to even consider Friday the thirteenth as a no-travel day. Obviously, so do thousands of other travelers as can be proven by the four other full flights I tried and unavailability of several others on that date. As I told my friend, I doubt it will be worse than spending nine hours in the Kansas City Airport at Christmas-time, but she thinks that comment is just tempting fate. I suppose we'll see.

I'm often shushed and given the hairy eyeball for making comments that supposedly rub luck the wrong way. At an annual dinner we attend (the one we just went to in March), there is a number drawing for cash, much like a lottery. The first year I attended, I mentioned someone's number and about got thrown out of the room for it. These people are hardcore. This year, my disrespect earned us the highest slot in the family. So much for their theories, except they probably believe we didn't win because of me.

I don't do stupid things (on purpose anyway). Sometimes "luck" is just a matter of being smart and sensible. That's how many superstitions started. I follow the rules of common sense as much as my resources allow. My resources might not be that great, but I'm getting there. I must be doing something right, because I've had a pretty good life thus far.

Now, I won't be tempting fate (well, maybe), but I'm tempting something if I don't clean this keyboard today. It is incredibly grimy and is completely grossing me out. I cannot believe this much filth can be generated by the tips of fingers and some dust. It's appalling. It would probably be a good idea to vacuum out all the dust and animal hair from between the keys too. The last time I did that, I swear I could have stuffed a small toy with what came up. For such small spaces between keys, a lot of stuff can get in there. All this keyboard talk makes me want to go wash my hands even more than I already do.

I always did wash my hands quite a bit, but when Boo got sick, I became a compulsive hand-washer. It's gotten so bad that my hands are practically brittle. I even had to take off my wedding ring, because it was getting so raw and scaly underneath it that I look like I'm still wearing a ring. We aren't just talking about a little indent or a tan line. It looks like I'm wearing a reddish, flaky ring. Thoroughly disgusting. That will teach me not to remove rings when I wash my hands, but damn if it isn't a total pain in the ass when you wash your hands a million times a day. It's worth it though if that's what's kept me from being sick for so long. I'll deal with the lizard skin ring.

I hear some Pine Sol and cotton swabs calling my name. This might take a while.