I've never thought of myself as particularly superstitious. I can never remember which shoulder to throw the salt over or why (besides the obvious reasons involving hygeine and sanitation) I'm not supposed to put my shoes on the table.
However, I can NOT walk by a penny on the ground without picking it up and preferably giving it away (thanks for that one, mom) and I'm definitely one for signs and omens. Sure, perhaps it's a tad narcisisistic to assume that nature or whatever would take the time to arrange itself into my very own magic 8 ball, but hey, in a moment of decision making paralisis, where both sides seem equally stacked with pros and cons, I'll take all the help I can get.
If that help is nothing more than narcisism, irrationality or my overactive imagination, so be it.
I swear part of the reason I decided to go ahead and uproot my life to move here a year ago was because the day before I got the call telling me about the job and asking if I might be interested in applying, I had impulsively bought curtains and couch cushion covers. It's like I was pre-nesting for no apparent reason, until the call came and gave me one.
On the weekend, as I dragged my drowned rat self back from an assignment I had shown up in the rain an hour early for, I was doing a nice job of fretting myself towards hairloss over whether or not I'm spending my time where I should be right now. Should I be moving on to something bigger and scarier? To something in the city?
Then, as I turned onto the road home? This:
That rainbow might as well have been my very own bat signal, shining directly out of the top of my house, from the looks of it.
So I figure I'll stick around a little longer.