Ah, Friday the 13th, traditional for bad luck. So, what bad luck did I have on Friday the 13th? Erm… none really so far. (Admittedly the day is not over yet.)
This morning I slept through my alarm, which had been cunningly set to play the radio very very quietly. I blissfully slept until almost 8am, but since I didn’t have to be anywhere in a hurry, one might almost call this good luck. And yesterday I left my yearly ticket at home. It cost me an extra $5 to get to work and back, but not exactly fatal.
But just in case you are tempted to relax, thinking that nothing bad really happens on Friday the 13th, take note of this: a colleague of mine was in a rush this morning. He left the house with his laptop computer and some folders. Realised before he got to the car that he’d left something behind. Put them down, ran back into the house, got what he’d forgotten, and then came back and got in the car.
He drove out of his driveway, wondering why the car felt a little odd to drive. Stopped, got out, looked, couldn’t see anything askew. Drove off down the road. Realised a short time later that his laptop and folders were not in the car. Went back to find folders of paper strewn across the road, and the laptop computer missing, presumed stolen. Argh. He showed me one of the folders he recovered. Yep. Tyre marks.
So, there you have it. Some people do have bad luck on Friday the 13th.