Author: Wil

Author, actor, producer. On a good day, I am charming as fuck.
blog Photo Credit Tony Case on Flickr

The February Reboot Check-in That Happened in March

Posted on By Wil

I’m really not good at titles, you guys.

So it’s time to check in on my life reboot, and see how I’m doing. As I did last time, I’ll grave — grave? Well, that’s a Freudian slip of the touch-typing fingers, isn’t it? — grade myself on a bit of a curve.

Here are the things I committed to doing, back in October:

  • Drink less beer.
  • Read more (and Reddit does not count as reading).
  • Write more.
  • Watch more movies.
  • Get better sleep.
  • Eat better food.
  • Exercise more.

Let’s see how I’m doing since my last check-in, near the end of January. Spoiler: pretty good.

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reach the beach

Posted on By Wil

We had five minutes to get back to the ship, and we were at least ten minutes away.

I began making plans to spend at least one night in St. Maarten, while hoping that somehow one of the waves our little boat was racing over would drop us into a wormhole that ended at the pier. Then, I had an idea. “Hey, you can drop us off at that dock which is right next to the pier, right? We don’t need to go to a dock that’s a seven minute walk away, do we?”

“I can try,” the captain said.

Four minutes (which simultaneously felt like forever and also passed much faster than time typically allows) later, the closer dock was in view. It would be close, but we were going to make it. That’s when the little boat we were on veered sharply to port, and began to go toward the other dock.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“See that boat behind us?”

I turned and looked over my shoulder, aft (to use a nautical term), and saw a black Zodiac raft. On that raft were five men dressed all in black. Holding machine guns, which were also painted black. Mounted on the raft was a large machine gun. It was not black, but it was pointed right at us.

“Um…”

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the machine can dream

Posted on By Wil

Because of my headphones, I can’t hear the sound my feet make when they hit the pavement, but my brain imagines a thumping sound that I can feel as it travels up my legs with each step.

I ran for five minutes, and though I felt like I could keep going, I stopped to catch my breath for a minute, before going again for another ten minutes. It was important to pace myself, because I had a long way to go, and if I wanted to get out and back without hurting myself, I had to stick to the plan.

It turns out that it’s as hard to stick to the plan when things are going better than expected as it is when things are falling apart around me.

I sipped my water, shook out my legs, and began to run again. A gentle downward slope made it so easy to go, I had to resist the urge to go faster than I should have.

Running, for me, is not just a series of steps and a log of miles. Running, for me, is and endless series of metaphors, wrapped up in one giant metaphors.

It’s metaphors all the way down.

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JoCoCruiseCrazy

I am no longer on a boat (despite what my inner ear thinks).

Posted on By Wil

One of the primary reasons I got a waterproof point-n-shoot camera was so I could do stupid stuff like this:

HI FISHES I'M A BIG DUMB PRIMATE WANT TO PLAY
HI FISHES I’M A BIG DUMB PRIMATE WANT TO PLAY WAIT COME OUT I CAN’T BREATHE DOWN THERE WHERE ARE YOU GOING

Before I write anything here at all, I need to give an enormous and heartfelt THANK YOU to everyone who made stuff and put it here while I was gone. I almost don’t want to write my own dumb stuff, because I’m dragging the curve down. I’m lucky and grateful to know so many awesome and creative people. If you haven’t, yet, go check it out. It’s way better than this thing I’m about to write, I promise.

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