Sometimes I think I have had my gutsfull of bad experiences. A child who screams I hate you is horrible enough, but a husband who says, I want to be here with you, then packs his bag and buggers off to someone somewhere better, is worse. Then there is stuff not fit for consumption in a public space.
Most of this bad life experience, probably just like you, I console myself with repetition, for at least it made me human.
But my alarm predictor is pulling off-centre again, and I feel I will be in trouble, again, this year. I think this is less intuition and more a sensing: I imagine it must be when your feet feel a distant vibration that heralds the earthquake. Just wait out the time, let it rumble, stand powerless to stop it, then watch the earth fold away while you're flipped up into the air and sent spinning into space. Then you can say, I knew that was coming. I could feel it in my bones.
Of course it could be something much more likely than an impending earthquake. I sometimes fancy I have an evil imp who sits above my head, maybe on a dense cloud, and when I move, it moves with me, a menacing cloud and resident imp, but there's no guardian angel to do battle with the imp, maybe the angel's off having a cup of tea and a lie-down, so the imp can play as it likes.
In this state of musing - What bad thing is going to happen next? - on today's walk I take photographs of happy things, so I can look back and think, okay I knew the earthquake was coming, but at least I've enjoyed the sight of an arch.
(That last photo is bird song, but you try photographing bird song.)