617

617. That’s my lucky number. 6/17, my birthday. For years my lucky number has been 6 and 17. But that’s always been it, 617, my number.

A few months ago, I started seeing 617 everywhere. Like, everywhere. Every day I would see the time on the clock 6:17 in the morning and the evening. I’d see it on roads and signs. I was even watching an episode of Criminal Minds and in one scene they had the crime scene labels to mark evidence. The two numbers of labels shown in the scene? 6 and 17, in that order.

When I lost my job, I started seeing 617 everywhere. And then I began applying to jobs in Boston. The area code? 617. That’s it, that’s my sign, I had thought. And then Boston wasn’t really panning out. I was mostly interviewing for jobs as a high school Spanish teacher and I knew I didn’t want to keep doing that. So I applied for one job here in Colorado. One job. They called me. They interviewed me. They offered me the position. I sent the principal a text accepting the job and when I looked at the time stamp on my phone, I saw that I had accepted the job at exactly 6:17pm. My angel number.

I thought it was done. 617 guided me to Colorado, I got the sign that this was the path I was intended for, and then last night when we arrived in Colorado, I looked at the clock on my car. 6:17pm. I smiled and knew the universe was sending me a sign that I truly am on the right path.

Here I am, arrived in Colorado! Today we have about two more hours of driving until we get to my apartment. I’ll go to my new school and pick up some things, then it’s unpacking before we enjoy a little hike I’m hoping to take my dad on tonight.

I’m here in Colorado, my new home. With my fur babies, my zoo crew, my family. I’m home. I’m ready for this new adventure. Rocky Mountain High. (and yes, we played that song multiple times after we crossed the state boarder into Colorado)

Here we go!