Baker's Dozens and Missing Floors

This morning I woke up, walked into the bathroom and shattered my mirror with my bare hand.  I drove to school only to walk all over some sidewalk cracks and under three ladders occupied by painters.  I even picked up three pennies that were unequivocally face-down. 

And today is Friday the Thirteenth.

Also, shut up. 

Friday the Thirteenth is utter nonsense.  Those who suffer from tridecaphobia, or whatever they call those who are afraid of the number 13 in all its various forms, are absurd.  I won't even dignify the "phobia" by looking up its proper spelling.  It doesn't make sense.  None sense, I guess. 

There are elevators that have button options for floor 12 and floor 14, but no 13.  Said another way: People are bat-shit crazy.  I'm sure some people refuse to buy a baker's dozen too.  A dozen's probably easier anyway.  And it's cheaper too.  Idiots.

The phenomenon of Friday the Thirteenth doesn't even make sense in my brain.  It's completely irrational and inexplicable that people fear Fridays that happen to be the 13th day in any given month.  It's just another quirk of the calendar.  Thanks a lot, Pope Gregory XIII.  (Yes, that's the thirteenth for those of you who didn't learn anything in school and hate the Super Bowl. But, don't read into that.  The world is full of coincidence.) 

For those of you who fear this day, I hate you.  For those of you who, like me, occupy this here realm of reality, here is a short list of items from our world that barely make more sense than a real fear of Friday the Thirteenth:

Stephen A. Smith's tone of voice; The Three Stooges remake; the 7th-inning stretch;  Rubik's cubes, Ice Cube's Coors Light commercials and Ice-T's Law & Order career; mathematics; Dwight Schrute's middle-part; the phrase "I know, right?"; motor sports; left-handed golfers; paying full price at Jos A. Banks; Seal and Heidi Klum's (former) marriage; making your bed; Keanu Reeves; Nickelback on the radio; Ray Lewis' dance; food coloring; tribal arm-band tattoos; impressionist painters; Earth Day; people who say "soda" when they really mean "pop"; every Kardashian not named Kourtney; animated television programs; ankle-high socks; reheated Chinese food; pet cats; John Mayer's Battle Studies; double negatives; pretzel M&Ms; and canned tuna.

So if you're scared tonight because you're alone in your apartment on Friday the Thirteenth, who you gonna call?  Frankly, I do not care.  As long as it's not me.

I ain't scared of no ghost. 

But that's mostly because those aren't real either.