Friday the thirteenth

Now I have never been one for superstition. To be honest, I worry enough about most things that if I factored superstition into the mix, it would never stop. I’m writing this post because, despite of my lack of belief, Friday the thirteenth for me this year, truly lived up to it’s name.

Whilst I won’t go into the details – for anyone other than me, the details are pretty mundane – but, fundamentally, there were disasters at every turn, be it work, personal, emotional; if something could have gone wrong, it did.

I went into the day with such high hopes, and why I wouldn’t I? It was a Friday! I got into the office early armed with an extensive to-do list, caffeine and the confidence I was going to get it done. That was until technical problems struck. And now, looking back at my list this morning, only one of the twenty things on my list were completed. This put in me in a very bad mood which not even a drink or two after work with colleagues could fix.

I don’t know if anyone else gets this, but sometimes if I am in a bad mood, I find it hard to get out of it. In fact, I think I make it worse for myself occasionally by wallowing and getting deeper into that mood. I went to bed on Friday night feeling ill (turns out that got worse over the weekend), sorry for myself and a bit teary – not sure how I managed to cry at this week’s Googlebox, but somehow I did.

Bizarrely, and thankfully, I woke up on Saturday morning feeling refreshed, lighter and brighter than I had done in a while which got me to thinking, did Friday the thirteenth have that much of an impact on my mood? If it did, I am dreading the next one…thankfully that’s not until November!


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