For the last few weeks, my left foot has been itching at night. While scratching it and talking to Tree, I told him I was going to research my situation. As I started to type ‘left foot itches,’ it autocompleted, ‘left foot itches at night.’ “Unbelievable,” I told Tree. “It’s just the internet, it isn’t psychic,” he told me. “Whatever. Looks like there are quite a few superstitions about this, but I’ve always been superstitious of superstitions,” I told him. “Let’s hear ’em,” he replied.
“I’ll soon walk on the ground that I will later be buried on. I will walk where I’m not welcome. I’m going to lose money on the road. I’m going to go somewhere new. A pointless and wasted journey.” “You’re at home right?” Tree asked. “Yes.” “Well, you’re not welcome in your own home.” “That’s no surprise, but I’m a little confused. A new journey. A walk to my burial.” “They seem to be conflicting. What is the name of your ghost?” Tree asked. “Agnes,” I replied. “She wants you gone,” he advised me. “She definitely doesn’t like me to use the oven,” I said and added, Thank God I don’t have two left feet.” “I don’t know about that,” Tree quipped.