Saturday, January 8, 2011

Pointless Panic

I logged into my e-mail this morning, and this is what greeted me.

I'm not particularly superstitious, but little things like that bother me. I know, logically, that it doesn't mean anything, and I'm not going to die in a big fire today or anything, but there's always that feeling that something's going to happen. Then I have to start reassuring myself.

"Well technically, you have more than 666 messages, because Junk is e-mail too, just not good stuff. Add them and you've got 674. You're fine."

"666 isn't even the proper number, it's 616, Noobephine."

"Well... you're staying indoors today. You'll be fine."

Things like walking under a ladder, black cats and spilling salt don't bother me. Things like this, however, do:

You know the feeling? I also know the feeling of needing a drawing tablet. Donations accepted.

I also freak about things like opening a drawer to find a knife pointing in my direction. Partially because all the knives are put in pointing to the sides of the drawer, partially because it's like an omen of my impending murder.

Or sometimes, I'll see something happen, like across the street someone will be just about to cross the road, and suddenly I start thinking of all the bad things that could happen, like they could run out, but then run back as a car swerves to avoid them, the car crashes into a lamp-post, the lamp falls off and crashes over someone's head....

I really, really shouldn't have watched Final Destination.

Needless to say, I'm not the biggest optimist in the world.

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