Friday The 13th, the day many dread and fear in the thought of being unlucky.
I remember growing up and my friends dad wouldn’t drive anywhere on Friday the 13th, nothing had ever happened to him, he was just overly superstitious.
I’ve met people who will be extremely careful on Friday the 13th, they won’t go out the house or when if they do, they won’t step under a ladder, cross a black cat or step on a crack. It’s all very strange.
My Friday the 13th was, well, lucky.
I drove to work, not having to sit through ridiculous traffic for some reason. At the car park I got a great car park space, now you don’t understand how great it is getting a GREAT car park space. It felt like god was on my side.
Leaving the car park space I walked in the rain, a godsend in Manchester at the moment with all this heat, but in a puddle there was a £5 note, of course I picked it up and nobody was even around in the small street.
In work I finally got some good-ish news, something I haven’t had a lot of at the moment so this of course was also a huge plus.
Overall some small minor details of the day made everything feel quite lucky and a good Friday the 13th.
