Hooray! Number six!
Well, it's finally the weekend. It's been a long gruelling week but we've made it through. And today is 11/11/11, which in itself is pretty cool. I'm now going to inform you exactly what happened to me, at 11:11 on the 11th of the 11th 2011. I'm not saying it's a great story. But I'm gonna tell you anyway cause that's how I roll.
Breaktime began at ten past eleven. I was in the library, supposedly doing Italian practice tests but actually researching the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, which seemed like a much more valuable way to spend an hour. I was there, with Jaina, Joel and Jess, the three J's. Jess is the only one of those three I know very well, and that's why I awkwardly tag along with them during my Italian lessons, making the three Js and one T. They're all very intelligent, very popular, socialites (excluding Joel) who would probably by referred to as the 'hipster' variety, if you were to label them. I get along very well with Jess; we share the same kind of sense of humour which means we both find each other hilarious. Jaina seems like a very nice person, but I've never got to know her all that well, and Joel.. well, Joel is a class of his own really. He doesn't understand people. And he's incredibly arrogant and not afraid to show it. I believe he once said to the teacher that gave him a detention: 'You can't punish me for my charisma!' But she did. I've spoken to him occasionally, and I wouldn't say I don't like him, but he is just one of those people who is academically clever, but not socially clever at all.
At ten past eleven they were all discussing meeting up and smoking cannabis, before the bell sounded and I was saved. I fled the library, anxious to get to the canteen before the hoards of year sevens completely blocked up the metro and made it impossible to get anywhere, ever. As I rushed along through the library, with Jess at my side, I kept checking my phone, waiting for that fateful moment when the clock would hit 11:11 for just minute. I barged through the door, still in a relative hurry, scurrying past people in my usual manner. I've been described as a mosquito, not because I'm an evil little parasite hopefully.
And then the moment happened. The phone in my hand read 11:11, there it was, four ones in a row. I stared at it, just to make sure. And then informed Jess that it was indeed 11:11. Her reaction was, no it's not. My phone still says 11:10. So technically, it wasn't her 11:11, but it was mine. I sped through the corridors, going down the stairs in a galloping motion and weaving between people, looking out for familiar faces. It was 11:11, and so I made a wish as I was going. My wish was, that I would have a good year. No billion pounds. No 30 mansions. No trip around the world. My wish was pretty modest, and that's the way I liked it. My humble little wish, that I wished at 11:11 11/11/11. I did craftily add 'and pass all my GCSEs' onto the end though.
That minute went by pretty quickly. By the end of it, I was lost in a stampede of children, crushed against a banister just innocently making my way to the canteen. Then it was 11:12, and it was all over. I said: 'Aww, the minutes up." And Jess replied with, "No it's not, it's still 11:11" which lead to more confusion.
So there you have it. Not just the longest blog post ever, but my story about my minute. Just one minute. But I won't ever see so many ones in the date every again, so, I thought I'd make a big deal about it.