It’s March 15 and I think we all know what that means. It’s time, once again, to fear being stabbed by your closest friends as well as your worst enemies. Usually, I would be holed up in my apartment with a baseball bat until March 16 but I realized you really only have something to fear if you meet all of the following criteria.
1. You and Cleopatra made a baby. Which, I will be the first to admit would be both impressive and gross seeing as how Cleopatra is dead. (Or is she?)
2. You have a frenemie named Brutus. (If you have a dog named Brutus, maybe send him to a doggy hotel for a day)
3. You know anyone named Plutarch. (And who doesn’t?)
4. You are the ruler of any place. (Playgrounds count)
5. A seer has foretold of your assassination. (Telephone psychics count)
So, as I only meet two of the criteria (and wouldn’t you like to know which two), I think I can make it through the day safely. Also, my friend sent me an email assuring me she wasn’t going to stab me today, so I’m feeling pretty confident. Of course, if that confidence proves false, you can refer to this post mockingly when you’re writing my biography.