It's November 11th - otherwise seen as 11/11. I'm quickly reminded of my friend Emma who, even when in deep conversation, will snap and tell everyone to make a wish at 11:11(am or pm). Naturally, she's adorable. Her beahvior really brings into light an important issue in my life, though. I am (for the most part) the person that will chuckle and refuse to make a wish because I know it won't work. Debbie Downer, right? I could really care less if i'm a party pooper in that sense, to be honest, but it has brought light to the fact that I'm not as hopeful as I want to be. No, there is no "11:11" god out there that will grant my wish - and there's nothing you can say to convince me otherwise. But what's the harm in making a wish, anyways? It's not likely that it'll come true (at least for the sole reason of wishing for it), but what's wrong with hoping? There is so much I want in my life and I know I must work for it, but what good will the work do in the absence of hope?
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