I don't think I believe in signs. Like when something happens and people say, "It's a sign." I believe everything is going to happen the way it should...that it all works our for the best, but I don't know if there really are signs pointing the way. Sometimes the signs can be bad. So, all this comes up because one of those "signs" presented itself Sunday night, and, although I don't believe in them, I said to myself, "I wonder if this is a sign."
Here's what happened:
Pretty simple, really. I was peeling my name tag off of my shirt (from a 4th of July party) and it ripped in half. It ripped in half horizontally. Not only was it a neat tear, it totally separated my first name from my last name.
I was probably too tired, or really over-thinking it. (I tend to do that now and then)
Just thought it was interesting.
This is the stuff that keeps me up at night.
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