Can you live superstitiously for a week?

October 7, 2016 — by Kyle Wang

My one week foray into living superstitiously started with a paper cutout of a rabbit’s foot. I read online somewhere that a rabbit’s foot brings you luck, but I don’t believe in animal cruelty or spending money on things I can (sort of) make at home. So, at 9 p.m. on Sunday night, when I probably should have been studying for my Spanish test, I was browsing through pictures of feet. Rabbit feet.

 

My one week foray into living superstitiously started with a paper cutout of a rabbit’s foot. I read online somewhere that a rabbit’s foot brings you luck, but I don’t believe in animal cruelty or spending money on things I can (sort of) make at home. So, at 9 p.m. on Sunday night, when I probably should have been studying for my Spanish test, I was browsing through pictures of feet. Rabbit feet.

I’ve never believed in superstitions, so this experiment was pretty fascinating for me. If nothing else, I had an excuse to fool around when I should have been studying. When my mom asked me why I was reading my horoscope for the week, I could tell her it was for newspaper.

For the week of Sept. 19, my horoscope told me (via a poetic but pretty much meaningless 100-word paragraph) to “let [myself] be held by the sheer delight of living.” It took me a good five minutes for me to figure out that I basically had full license to do whatever I wanted for one week.

In the middle of rejoicing over my full license to YOLO, I suddenly remembered I still hadn’t studied for Spanish. Oops.  

The next day, in the middle of my Spanish test, I remembered the rectangular slip of paper in my pocket holding a kindergarten-level drawing of a rabbit’s foot. I was tempted to reach in and give it a pat for good luck, but decided against, it as Señor Rodriguex probably would have thought I was cheating.

Now, as I write this, I’ve already forgotten most of last week. My horoscope said that the week of Sept. 19 was a week to leave me “without words, without stories.” I didn’t think they meant that literally — I still have no idea how a horoscope or my little rabbit’s foot was supposed to bring me joy.

Even though my expectations weren’t high to begin with, I can’t say that having a paper cutout of a rabbit’s foot in my pocket was any less entertaining. As long as I have a good excuse to procrastinate on APUSH reading and look up pictures of bunnies, I won’t complain about superstition.  

 
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