Eleven Eleven

by Nic Olson

I just got up to get a glass of water. I noticed four of the five clocks around me and one of them said 11:11. I put some lotion on my tattoo and I saw the microwave clock was 11:11 while the first clock flipped to 11:12. I sat back down to the computer and the iMac said it was 11:11, while the first clock blinked to 11:13 and the second to 11:12. I make a wish when I see it is 11:11. But you can’t make more than one wish at one 11:11, so you’ve got to go with the first one you made. I wished pretty seriously this time, almost yelling in my head to the wishing gods that grant 11:11 wishes, wish chips, wishing star wishes and the like.

I had the day off. I didn’t do really anything. I had the plan for a productive day, but that didn’t really turn out. I have been sitting in front of the blank computer screen for the past hour listening to new jams waiting for something to come from the back of my head and out of my fingers to show up as black pixels on any white canvas I had, to prove to myself that the day wasn’t an entire waste. I originally wanted to contribute to my book, but I usually like to have semi-decipherable thoughts on that canvas, and use this one for other ideas. Like this one. I laid on my back for a total of five hours today, reading, watching, thinking, listening, eating and not much intellectual activity occurred. I tried to brainstorm writing ideas, ways to change the world, potential career paths, friends to call up, places to travel, ways to spend the money I don’t have, and I came up empty on all of those. Days off can be brutal.

When we are in a mental state where we do not want to be, looking to where we could go seems even more foreboding than it does when we are where we want to be. All that is visible is the pile of self loathing and pity that you yourself lay in. And what can you do about this? Drink? Schmooze? Rage? Nothing, is the only thing I can seem to do. And nothing I will do.

But I am trying to live a more optimistic and positive life. So this is it: I had a dream that Scotty Bowman and I went skateboarding together and he ate it hard. That was cool. The future could he bright of I allow myself to get there. Hockey starts tomorrow.