Something good is bound to happen.
Either that or the planet will explode magnificently.
Either that or a handsome prince will waltz into my classroom with a song* and an armful of lilies.
Either that or I will go blind.
Either that or I will sprout wings and fly to Italy.
Either that or the floor of my kitchen will finally decide it's time to fall through.
Either that or cash money will rain down from the sky....
Either that or everything will stay blissfully as it is and I will go on my camping trip this weekend and enjoy spending quality time with a certain few delightful friends, having morningbirds as my alarm clock, drinking coffee (or Cabernet) by the fire, hiking through autumn-tinged woods, slicing onions for our campsite supper, laughing in one accord at life's many ironies and hilarities.
This is what 11.11.11, 11:11:11 means to me. Absolutely, unequivocally nothing.
*I like New York in June, how about you?
I like a Gershwin tune, how about you?
I love a fireside when a storm is due,
I like potato chips, moonlight
And motor trips, how about you?
