On Superstition

In many ways, I am a superstitious person. I take a bit of a Sliding Doors attitude to life, considering that the butterfly effect can turn the smallest decisions into events with wider-ranging consequences. Small things like the kind of breakfast cereal you have in the morning can effect your mood in tiny ways that effect your decisions later in the day. What colour shirt you’re wearing can affect other people’s moods around you and how they respond to you. The list of trivial effects your decisions have on the world is endless and, therefore, not worth thinking about. But I do. I could so easily paralyse myself with indecision and drive myself mad with thoughts of differing consequences I can’t even predict. So I only buy one kind of cereal, for a start…

The way I get around this little neurosis is to make a habit of going with my gut. In a world of subtle fates, I assume a certain amount of fatalism and just make the decision that feels right at the time – it gives me the comfort zone of assuming that the consequences of my actions are Meant to Be. This doesn’t stop me being superstitious, but it keeps me out of the mental asylum.

Recently, I replaced all my underwear. I hadn’t bought new underpants in a couple of years, so I figured that it was time to buy some. Some of the ones I bought were black, some were blue, and some had patterns on them. Underwear isn’t a big deal most of the time, unless, of course, you have a habit of driving yourself crackers with trivialities.

One night, I was going on a night out and was getting ready for the occasion. I had a strange instinct to wear a black pair of underpants with little white designs on them that kind of made them look star-spangled. Thinking this was silly, I actually put on a plain black pair. I had a bit of an odd night and came home late, drunk and with a feeling of dissatisfaction. So the next time I went clubbing, I wore the star-spangled y-fronts…

I made some bad decisions that night, the result of which was that I ended up on the wrong side of Brum and didn’t get home until eight on Sunday morning. I had things to do that day, but I was in no fit state, so the day went to the wall. Two weeks later I wore those same pants out again and got so drunk I lost another day to one of the worst hangovers I ever had. Yes, I’m superstitious, and underpants have nothing to do with decision-making or self control, but I’ve still never worn those underpants on a Saturday night since.

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~ by Scary Rob on 5 January, 2009.

One Response to “On Superstition”

  1. Happy New Year my friend……..funny story about your underpants !!

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