My Papa B has always believed in those old wive’s tales. Like the one about the itchy right hand forecasting a financial windfall. Or how about the one where birds predict the passing of a loved one, which, of course comes in threes. So, what’s the point? Well, these little superstitious quirks have started to rub off on me…Even after all this time.
In the last few days I have had trouble sleeping. I have had itchy hands, feet and throat. The birds have been starring at me and I’m starting to fear the worst, but I’m still hoping for the best. Then there’s the has atypical impulses to purchase lottery tickets; which my Hubby refers to as idiot tax. I haven’t been feeling quite myself, but I also haven’t been feeling like anyone else either. It’s almost as thought something’s coming, in a very West Side Story kinda way. And I just can’t shake that
Now, having superstitions isn’t a bad thing. I feel like it’s the way to look out for opportunities, though I also know that looking for something often means you’re more likely to see what you want to. As with everything it’s a matter of perspective. I am a huge supporter of looking at the sunny side of life. So, I’ll take those birds and stare right back at them. I’ll try my itchy-handed-luck at a game of chance. And I’ll keep hoping those unseen opportunities start popping up. I’m open to it.