Friday the 13th

I'm wondering how many of you take this serious? Me? It doesn't really bother... except for the newscasters going on and on about it. Now, the fact that there is a full moon, well that's a serious issue. As you know, full moons irritate the shit out of me. I know, I know, Hubby tells me "the moon is always full, you just can't see it". Keep that to yourself, Hubs... you know as well as I do that it doesn't make one iota of difference. When the moon is full, weirdness happens.

The animals are restless. Inside, our cats wander around more at night and don't just sleep the sleep of the dead. I'm sure it's because with the bright landscape visible in extreme detail to their sensitive eyes, they're seeing all kinds of things they wish they could go out and kill. The puppies stir around more and rassle and grumble, confused as to whether it's really night or if I pulling some trick on them. The outside animals aren't much better. I hear neighbors dogs that sometimes bark awhile early on then quiet, continue their yelping and yowling far into the night.

I even heard some coyotes the other night when I had the puppies out before bed! ...and the hoot owls are in full force right now, too. Occasionally I can even look out on the bright full-moon-lit landscape and see deer walking through or other strange creatures who feel safe in raiding the birdfeeders in the night-time.

Me? I don't sleep worth a shit when the moon is full. It isn't just that it's bright, as I pull the shades and block it out as best I can. (I slept fine when the Christmas lights kept the bedroom glowing from all the extra lighting in the house, too!) It's something more... it's that pull of the tide thing... that water on my brain that must be sloshing to and fro to the tidal pull. I live how many miles from an ocean? In the middle of the country... hours away from oceans or other large bodies of water. (No, Onion Creek in my back yard does not count.) Somehow, it still gets to me. I have the weirdest dreams... recently composed of Hubby, George Clooney, my eldest daughter and Worlds of Warcraft. (Go figure.) Hubby always threatens to get out the tinfoil and make me a lovely hat to "block the rays"... uh huh.

So, tell me... does Friday the 13th mean any more to you than a bad movie? Or is it just one of those random superstitions to get us all stirred up...? Me? I'll just keep the tinfoil handy.