365 Day Writing Challenge 24: Numbers

365 Day Writing Challenge

24. Numbers: Write a poem or journal entry about numbers that have special meaning to you.

88: The house number of my home. I lived there from when I was around two until I was 18. I loved it a stupid amount, and I still dream about it on occasion.

7: My birthday is the 7th of the 7th, my phone number is mostly 7s and my current house number is 7. I can’t help but feel like it’s lucky every time a 7 pops up in a number associated with me (this has been ruined slightly by the 7/7 bombings).

2305: 23rd May, my anniversary with my boyfriend ❤

1603: The year my hero, Elizabeth I died. For some reason it has always stuck in my head and it’s pretty much the only date from history I can remember apart from the World Wars (I’m terrible with dates).

Pi: Because pi is pretty darn cool.

6: This is a bit of a weird one. When I was younger I always imagined the numbers to have personalities. I liked the 6 the best because I imagined her as a really pretty girl (something about the shape – made me think of a ponytail). 9 was 6’s big sister and she was pretty well liked, but she hung out with 7 who was definitely not cool. Lots of their personalities were also based on how easy I found the times tables for that particular number. For this reason everyone liked 5, even though she was an odd number, who were generally considered the strange ones. 8 was the coolest number. But he knew it, unfortunately. 4 was his little brother, and desperately wished he was as cool as 8, but never was quite. 3 was considered almost as weird as 7, and 6 tried to deny that she was related to 3. I don’t know why, but I never really assigned personalities to 0,1,2 and 10. Clearly I didn’t deem them interesting enough. Sorry guys, I’m really tired and that was a bit of a ramble. Clearly I just enjoyed attaching personalities to things that didn’t have them when I was a kid. If I was ever bored at the table I would make a nativity scene with the cutlery. Seriously, Joseph was a fork, Mary was a spoon, and the baby Jesus was a little teaspoon. The knife, salt and pepper, ketchup, brown sauce and whatever else were assorted wise men, shepherds and angels.

Well, I’m going to go to bed now. I wonder if I’ll regret writing this in the morning?

 

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