Over the last few days I’ve been feeling bogged down with a lingering head cold, tightness in my chest (probably stress-related), and an overwhelming feeling of apathy - I just can’t be bothered to do anything but sleep, read, and make a nuisance of myself.  I can’t really put my finger on what it is that’s bothering me - we’ve sold our car, we’ve booked our flights to the UK, and our trip to Italy is completely sorted - but at the moment I feel like being as uncooperative and awkward as possible.  The last thing I want to do is sit down at a computer and hammer away at mindless copy-writing work for hours on end and for poor pay, and I certainly don’t feel like getting all my paperwork in order for my taxes, for the car sale, for my visa application, or for life in general.  Perhaps it’s something to do with the growing sense of dread I’ve been feeling that my life is escaping ahead of me like rolling coins from a dropped purse.  I can’t stop the march of progress, but I can spend the day in bed with the covers over my head.

I was wondering this morning if perhaps I’ve been getting up on the wrong side of the bed.  Rob always rolls his eyes when I talk about old superstitions or beliefs, but I think that if you are brought up with such things they are just as real to you as growing up understanding that the sky is blue.  My mother and grandmother always put a coin into a new purse or wallet if they give one as a present - apparently giving someone an empty wallet will bring bad financial luck.  Rob’s mother and grandmother get quite upset if you return from shopping with a pair of new shoes and casually set them down on the kitchen table - this also brings bad luck.  Christmas puddings should always be served with a coin in the bowl, and talking about things that haven’t happened yet should always be followed by the postscript, “touch wood”.  A pink sky at night is always a shepherd’s delight (I don’t know any shepherds but that’s what I’ve been taught!), and blowing out birthday candles should always be accompanied by making a wish.  These are the little things which make us who we are and which form the imaginary familial bonds that blood can not.  Getting out on the wrong side of the bed is another one of these silly little rituals.

According to the Encyclopedia of Word and Phrase Origins, getting up on the ‘wrong’ side of the bed is a superstition that apparently comes from the era of Roman control of Europe, and is said to be related to the left side of the bed.  Robert Hendrickson, editor of the Encyclopedia, suggests that the superstition is related to the belief that you should not enter a house with your left foot first, and that you should not start a journey with your left foot.  Augustus Caesar was noted for being careful to get out on the right side of the bed.

I have one problem with this superstition, and it isn’t that it’s silly or obviously not grounded in science (or logic!).  No, my problem is that the side of the bed which is ‘left’ would depend on whether you woke up laying on your back or on your stomach.  Is there a pre-determined ‘left’ - the obvious choice - or does it depend on your sleeping position?  Perhaps I should conduct an experiment…