I wonder why people are so paranoid about Friday 13. It’s always been fairly lucky for me. This comes from a woman who will throw on her brakes and turn around if a black cat should dash in front of her path.
Since ancient times, the number 13 has been reviled to the point streets won’t be numbered “Thirteenth Street” and hotels often skip the 13th floor.
Someone told me that if you sit down at the dinner table with 13 people, one will die before the year is over. And that you should change your name if you have 13 characters in it. My name used to be Emily Braddock (13 characters, right?) and my best years were before a man made me change it to Jones.
So go out and enjoy your day. It feels kind of lucky to me.