I hate being superstitious. It's like the most extreme and debilitating, get-in-the-way form of OCD.
I guess that's why it was so easy for me to come up with the super-creepy character of Mitch, from in the path of falling objects.
A few posts back, I commented on how fervently I avoid even accidentally reading my horoscope, and how even Magic 8-Balls terrify me. Ever since then, I keep getting emails about my new horoscope prediction.
Of course, I don't open them.
So cut it out.
I will never read them.
So... when I write, I usually also keep the internet going. When I get tired, or need to think for a bit, I will sometimes pop over to the 'net and check out my email, or Facebook, or even sometimes ask a random question to Google and see what happens.
Yesterday, though, I blew it. I figured out my entire life on Facebook. I found out what my parents should have actually named me, where I am supposed to live, and... ugh... how I am going to die, all by taking Facebook quizzes.
It said I am going to die by drinking the black fluid from inside a Magic 8-Ball.