I usually consider the number’s 11 and 7 to be lucky for me.
I don’t have any proof of that, or anything. Besides always making a wish at 11:11, I think I just like them as numbers. I’ve also never been superstitious of the number 13. It had never done anything to me, despite it being commonly considered an unlucky number to be avoided.
The number 11 let me down. In 2011, I had the most difficult life of my year. I couldn’t wait for that year to be over – it started December 31, 2010 when we held an unsuccesful New Years party at our house. It ended with me crawling into bed at 3 am and saying, “This better not be a sign of the year to come.” Nine days later, The Boy and I were in a terrible car accident. And the rest of the year followed, with more injuries, deaths, loss and heartache. It ended on December 31, 2011 when my niece ended up in the hospital with a concussion.
2012 came and went, with its own fair share of difficulties and bumps along the way.
I didn’t give much thought to 2013 when it began. It progressed fairly uneventful until September, when I graduated. And then October, when I got engaged. And then November, when I got a job. It hasn’t been a perfect year, there has been heartache. There always will be. But in the grander scheme of things, ’13 has been fairly lucky for me.
Here’s hoping 2014 continues this positive rise.
To continue the theme, I rang in the year lucky-white-cat style. (Makes sense, right? Black cats = bad luck, white cats = good?)