Eleven Eleven Eleven

Today is a special day.  I don’t know why, but it has to be.  My calendar looks like guitar strings and no one can tell me what it means.  So I’m left to my own devices.

Think of all the possibilities.  Today may be the loneliest day; it may be the straightest day; it may be a hopelessly impatient day with an incurable superiority complex; or it may just be a bad hair day.  I guess we will all find out soon enough.

I’ll admit to being in awe of these consecutive number days.  And, this could be the LAST one.  (Just ask my Mayan readers.)

Either way, I have a feeling that something special will happen on the eleventh second, of the eleventh minute, of the eleventh hour today.  Don’t blink or you’ll miss it.

6 thoughts on “Eleven Eleven Eleven

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