To Be Read the Next Time I Wonder Whether My Kids Have a Touch of the OCD

My grade seven teacher, I have mentioned before, was awesome. Many of the things he taught us, whether formally or off the cuff, still roll around in my head, bouncing off the walls and popping up at the oddest times.

For some reason, one day he decided to teach us numerology. He called it “finding out your lucky life number.” We each added up our birthdays until the numbers were only one digit. My lucky life number was 9.

I was really in love with magic at the time. My interest in magic and witches had started in grade five when my almost-as-awesome grade five teacher had us perform Macbeth and I played the first witch. I started reading books about witches and began casting spells, most of which I invented myself, and all of this really came to a head in grade six, Year of Infamy. Many of my nasty peers (and teachers) were subjected to my secret witch spells. I even had a witch name but I can’t tell you what it was. Oh I remember it just fine, but if I tell you, you might be struck by a falling tree.

Learning that my lucky life number was 9 gave me something to believe in, something to hold on to, something to hook me on a lifetime of Magical Thinking. It became everything to me. The number nine was going to make everything all right. If I didn’t want to do something (jump in the pool, say) I would count to 9 first. I always took nine squares of toilet paper. From the back seat of the car, I would count telephone poles as they whizzed by; one to nine and then start again.

Eventually I had to modify this obsession because, for one thing, nine squares of toilet paper is a lot. Especially as you learn about the dying planet and the decimated forests. I allowed my number superstition to include factors and multiples of nine. Three squares of toilet paper: much more reasonable. Eighteen years old: would be the best year of my life.

Things that consumed me as a child and teenager no longer occur to me much. At least not in the front of my mind. I do still count to nine before I do something I don’t want to do.

But I am compelled, by forces beyond my immediate control, to tell you, if you are not already aware, that today is September 9, 2009, which is 09/09/09 which if you add it, equals 27 which, if you add it, makes 9.

I am not going to go put on a pretty dress and drink gin all day or anything but I do feel that little tingle I used to feel around anything 9-related.

Happy 9 day!