What a lucky day. Well, not really. Nothing mometous happened. In English class at 11:11 everyone simutaneously dropped their pencils and looked up at the clock and started whispering wishes to themselves. My teacher didn't know what was going on.
Think about this: next year will be 12.12.12. But the next time that will ever happen will be in about 11 years from now. I'll be in my 20s. Out of college. And you know how recently we reached a population of 7 billion? According to my science teacher, we'll reach 8 billion in 2035, around there. I'll be in my late 40s. I'm only a teenager now! Its weird to think so far in the future.
What do I want to do in 11 years? I might be in grad college, maybe not. I'd like to be a writer or a teacher. Maybe a major in English and a minor in education. My mom got to teach abroad in Britain when she went to KU, and I think that'd be really fun.
What about in 24 years? I want to have a family, hopefully. Two kids, boy and girl maybe? I'd want to live in a cottage-like style house but with modern twists on the inside. I want it to show my values through art and design.
That's so odd to think about.