Numbers are all around us. Our address, our social security number, how much we earn. You wake up at a certain time, you check the temperature, you watch the morning news on X channel. Time is important. Money is important. And they are all numbers. So it got me thinking, what number is important to me?
Is it my age? I wish I’d had kids earlier because they actually turned out pretty cool. But I’m not at death’s door quite yet. If I take care of myself, I’ll probably be good a little while longer.
Is it my weight? Of course that’s something I think about every day. I weigh myself when I get up and wish I were thinner. Maybe the two bedtime cupcakes weren’t such a good idea. But, no matter how much I try, I keep coming back to this weight, so I’m just going to be happy here.
Is it money? I stay at home with the kids so money is always on my mind. I feel like I should be contributing more, but then again, I watch three kids, I take care of the dog, I keep the house together, do the grocery shopping and the laundry, run the kids around, etc. And if I went back to work, then I’d have to put the two big ones in daycare after school and the little one in daycare all day and how much would that cost? And then I’d miss out on everything they do. They grow up too fast as it is so I’d rather be on a budget and get to enjoy them while I can.
So what is it? What’s my magic number? I guess the number is zero. Why? It represents infinite possibility. It’s in everything-years, names, science and math. It’s not worthless, far from it. Without zero, you wouldn’t have operator assistance, you wouldn’t have binary code, you wouldn’t have 100 calorie snacks.
Zero, my hero.
chickenfickle 