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OK. Seriously, though, this is a huge moment in the history of my blogging career. A second post in a two week time period.....
On another note, the whole point of this post is to discuss something that has been on my mind this week. Well, actually, it's been on my mind for a couple of weeks. SUPERSTITIONS. Superstitions are a thing that people have.
A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting at my desk at Vivint (not really MY personal desk, but I call it MY desk because I sit there a lot...sometimes there's someone else sitting there, so technically it could be THEIR desk instead of my desk...I'll just call it MY desk... ) and I looked out the window to see a bright full moon. It also happened to be Friday the 13th. A full moon on Friday the 13th? Some people could find such a day to be a day of bad luck and...I don't know...werewolves attacking people...or ghosts pulling your comforter off in the middle of the night...but honestly I didn't really feel anything significant about the day. It was just another day of kicking butts and taking names at my amazingly satisfactory job in a Vivint call center...cough...
But I can sorta see why some people would be a little frightened by the concept of a full moon falling on a Friday the 13th. People are superstitious about a lot of things in this world. For example, some buildings don't even build a 13th floor during construction because of the bad luck that is known to fall around the number 13. Certain NBA players never change their routine to how they shoot free throws, since they fear switching up that routine would cause them to miss the free throw shots. It's madness.
I don't have superstitions. The only thing that I'm potentially superstitious about is the concept of aliens and thunderstorms. Ever since I watched the movie War of the Worlds, I fear that every bolt of lightning is transporting a giant alien into the ground in order to inevitably emerge, attack, and exterminate the entirety of the human race. That's normal though, right?
Well, an event happened this week that has resulted in me becoming a little bit superstitious. On my day off, I had the great desire to venture off to...well...McDonald's to see if the Shamrock Shake had returned. I do enjoy a good Shamrock Shake and for some reason I always forget that McDonald's only carries the Shamrock Shake during St. Patrick's Day...which would make sense (hence the name Shamrock Shake and the fact that it is green). When I arrived at my car in the parking lot, I noticed a morbid scene on the windshield. Below is the actual picture from the front of my car:
That's a dead freaking bird. ON THE HOOD OF MY CAR. How does that happen? The logical portion of my brain would say that someone was being a jerk, saw the dead bird on the ground, and threw it on the hood of my car as a joke. Logical. Sound reasoning.
But I'm well-known as a person who's guided by the illogical portion of his brain. Who would pick up an obviously dead bird and throw it on someone's car? Bird flu, am I right? I've also watched enough Supernatural/read enough Harry Potter to understand bad juju when I see it. A dead bird doesn't just die in midair and fall smack dab onto the hood of someone's car who (just a week ago) was laughing at the thought that people would become superstitious over stupid things like full moons and Friday the 13th.
Of course, I idiotically came inside, pulled up Google and typed in "dead bird superstitions." Obviously, this wasn't the greatest idea and would only lead me down a rabbit hole of paranoia and dread. And it did. Much like what happens when one Googles their own health symptoms and finds out that every headache could only mean herpes and/or polio.
Here's what I discovered. When one discovers a dead bird, it's a well-known omen that means the person that finds the dead bird is inevitably going to die. Of course. The reasoning behind this reads as follows: "birds can easily move between earth and sky, humans have long viewed our feathered friends as a link between the temporal and spiritual worlds."
I think we can all agree that I've been taught a valuable life lesson. Don't mock things that you don't understand. Don't trivialize the power of Father Sky and Mother Earth. Because I was mocking the idea of superstitions, the universe decided to play a little trick on me, with a poor, innocent Western Meadowlark to convince me to take certain things seriously.
I get it, universe. I'm going to die. Inevitably. And now I can't look at a dang Western Meadowlark without thinking of death, werewolves, Friday the 13th, and the bird flu. Serves me right.
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