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poop beetle: Lucky number 7
7.2005
I took the state nursing boards last Thursday. The date was 7/14.
Which I mention, because forever, when forced to pick a lucky number I've regularly gone with 7.
I didn't register for that test date for that reason, it was simply the first available to me.
But I noticed, the three times 7 (the trinity would of course make it all that more luckier, right?) Pleeze.
7 has never done a thing in the world for me. Again, the only reason I call it "my lucky number" is because from early childhood one is expected to have one. (along with a favorite color, animal, insect, soda, candy, place you could live if you could live anywhere).
The choice was forced on me. I picked it in a panic and that in its self has always made it a sort of ticking bomb for me.
A lucky number is supposed to be granted/given by the spirits of luck- not just pulled out of one's ass. It's supposed to have meaning - which 7 does, all kinds of historical connections (I read recently, it's the 3 + the 4, the triangle AND the square, plus a bunch of Greek/Roman mythology spooky enough to get co-opted by the Christians)
But I didn't know that, back then.
As a result, I've tried to make it up to the luck gods, by being consistent. As pissed as they might be with my lack of backbone, (and how much more provocative that I'd pick this ancient number- "oh, I'm sooo sure, 7 is yours!"). I imagine them being even more annoyed if I kept jumping around, test driving various lucky numbers, like some arrogant, self-important "consumer" you know they exist to knock down.
I should have gone with 7/15. I knew that. And will pay for it, and not just for this recent thing, but for the years of ridiculous, stupid good luck I've enjoyed.
Over and over again I've fallen on luck.
I have been snatched from the jaws of death and destruction by whim- a whimsy/whimsical whim that made its self known in so many ways- what it was and that I had done nothing to deserve it and would likely never achieve anything worthy of it and about the time I begin to get close, the capricious ones will get to have their fun.
They made sure to show me how far being born white and mainly, middle class- raised as if I were middle class, which is all that matters, the language, mores and sense of entitlement- would get me.
They let me know. And then they gave me a little more rope- a little more of the universe is on my side. I knew and they know I knew. No one's fooling anyone here.
When I got to the testing center a little man in a dazzling crisp white shirt and grey suit handed me a plastic disc with the number 14 on it.
That's 7 twinned, and a sign.
I thought "of course".
He took my paperwork, my finger prints and my picture and told me to put all my belongings in a locker.
Locker 14 was free. And I took it, as obviously this thing was out of my control.
Let in to the anteroom, another little old man, in another crisp brilliant white shirt was directing a woman ahead of me to computer 12.
The woman behind her suddenly reversed directions and moved past me.
I thought- here's where it breaks, right here.
The little old man finished speaking to the woman in front of me, I moved forward, but not all that quickly. He hesitated, looked questioningly at me.
He hesitated a second and then the woman reappeared from a last moment bathroom break.
He'd given her "the talk" already, which I hadn't heard ( cameras will be on you at all times, video and audio- raise your hand if you need to leave your seat, do not leave your seat until the tester arrives to escort you- etc.)
She went ahead of me and was ushered to computer 12B. There was no computer 13, the man explained. It makes people nervous.
Computer 14, for me. And the truth is, I am not entirely ready to come in to my own. That's a f*ck load of a lot of pressure. It'll happen eventually and all, but what's a few more months, eh?
I'm just kidding. Really. Nothing makes or breaks you (I say this out loud to appease the luck spirits- they like to give to those who don't expect it- they're obnoxious and fickle that way, only if it doesn't mean anything to you- just as long as you don't expect it).
I don't know if I passed my exam yet. Don't say a word of encouragement (or conversely DO encourage- say things like "I'm sure you did just great!").
I don't know what those spirits want from me. I think they like it best when I don't give a shit (see: prepared to deal with alternatives).
