DOCTOR 11:11

MATT SMITH 1.png

DOCTOR 11:11

 

My life seems to be full of elevens. This morning, I was having a wonderful dream and simply refused to wake up from it. Matt Smith- one of my favourite people- was showing me how to colour the Universe, and I was having so much fun that I knew normal life couldn’t match up to it. Several other people were also trying their skills at colouring their Universes, too, but Matt Smith said I’d won; my Universe was by far the brightest and most artistic he’d ever seen, so he stayed there with me, checking it all out. He was very impressed that I’d even gone so far as to colour peoples’ eyelashes gold, but if you know me, that wouldn’t surprise you.

 

For those of you who love Doctor Who, you’ll know that Matt Smith was Doctor number 11 and, for all of you who still proclaim your undying love for the previous regeneration – David Tennant – yes… I loved him the best as well. That is, until Matt Smith first poked his head out the TARDIS and I was smitten. You see, Matt and I get along like THAT. We’ve never met in the waking world, but he often pops into my dreams to say ‘hello’ and whisk me around the stars. And, before you ask, it’s a purely platonic relationship – just two good friends painting the Universe purple and yellow (with splashes of gold). The closest I’ve got to him physically, is cleaning and dressing a gash in his leg that he suffered once when we were riding our bikes on a planet with very rough terrain.

 

So, this morning – when I finally felt that I must leave off painting the stars and awaken to the world, I staggered down the stairs to start the day with a cup of coffee. I don’t have a clock in my bedroom, so the first thing I did was look at the microwave on the kitchen counter, and found the time was 11.11 am. I’ve totally lost track of how often that happens to me; it’s pretty much happening every day and often more than once a day.

 

In my mind’s eye, I could see Doctor number 11 winking at me and holding up his thumb. He was wearing his fez. I’m absolutely certain that there’s a parking garage in the TARDIS (there’s a swimming pool in there, so there must be parking, right?) and I’m also sure there’s a magic carpet parked in there as well. It would make sense. After all, he does wear that fez, doesn’t he, and he’s my favourite travel guide around the Universe.

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