Read My Book about Habits!
Check out my bestselling book on habits, Superhuman by Habit. .
I've been wanting to write this one for a while. It's some practical advice on how to use a cell phone without causing me to want to kill you. Try it at home...
If you leave a message, I will probably call you back. Leaving additional messages sharply decreases the chance of a callback. If I wake up and you've left 3 messages and two texts asking me to call, that's probably grounds for a 24 hour no call period. I don't want to spend 10 minutes going through your messages.
This stuff is important. Seriously.
My friend Todd and I were waiting in the office to go to a movie. It was 8:00 and the movie started at 8:45. He showed me some weird video of a guy dancing in a lot of different countries.
"Doesn't this just make you want to travel?" He asked.
It did. Within a few minutes we resolved to go on a trip, and to buy the tickets before leaving for the movie.
I probably mentioned my previous employ at Papa John's earlier. It's the only real job I've had other than my current one at Smiley Media. If you're anything like me (is anyone?), then you might assume there's no room for life changing innovation at a major pizza chain. However, you'd be wrong.
When we were hungry, we'd make ourselves a pizza. It's possible that you're not supposed to do that, but it was a laid back environment. My boss was my friend, as were most of my coworkers. Deliveries would take a back seat to dough fights, and phone calls would occasionally go unanswered. Almost every day we'd each make a pizza.
I loved Papa John's pizza. It was a good deal better than other pizza chains, and I thought I'd never get sick of it. As some of you may have experienced, working at a restaurant will make you totally sick of their food.
When I was younger, I loved playing on swings. My best friend Ryan and I would spend all of recess on the swings, making up new tricks and seeing who could jump further. Eventually it got to the point where ankles were being sprained and we had both perfected the backflip off the swing.
Now, many years later, I still love swinging despite encountering fewer opportunities to do it. One of the distinctive features at my new building is a large metal terrace hanging over the rooftop patio. Since moving in I've wanted to build a swing on it so that I could swing over the edge of the building.
I'm not sure why, but yesterday inspiration struck and I decided that it would be that day I built my swing. Evan and Jonah were with me. Evan was upset by the idea, worried that I might die. Jonah was also eager to swing, and helped me assure Evan that I did stuff like this all the time, and that I wouldn't die. She wasn't wholly convinced.
So, as I mentioned before, I'm have moved downtown. I was looking forward to moving, but didn't really know what to expect. I've been here now for almost a month so I'm officially qualified to write about it.
Let's cut to the chase: living downtown is sweet. The best part, that I hadn't fully considered, is that it's now convenient for everyone to come visit me. When I lived in my house 20 minutes North of town, I had a visitor maybe once or twice a week. Usually we'd meet at a restaurant or something closer to downtown, so I always had to drive. Now I live in such a convenient location that everyone comes to visit me. Often they're doing something else a block away, so it's really easy to come say hi.
Another cool side effect of this is that different social circles I'm in are starting to mingle because they often stop by at the same time. I don't think I've gone 24 hours without someone visiting.
I'm sick of being treated like an idiot. Last weekend I rented a boat with some friends, and we were forced to sit through a 15 minute talk about boat safety. It was boring and slightly condescending, but tolerable. After the talk I asked if I'd have to listen to it again if I rented a boat next weekend. He said I would have to.
On the highway I am forced to drive at the speed limit even though I'm a better driver and have a better performing car than most people.
When I call Sprint to upgrade my service I am forced to say "no, no, no thanks, no" while they try to upsell me on ringtones and other such digital garbage.
I don't know if most people would want a stalker or not, but I have one and I think it's great. Technically she may be more of a secret admirer, but I don't have any proof that she admires me, and I do have proof that she's crafty enough to find my addresses. There's also been some speculation that she isn't actually a hot girl, but is someone playing a trick on me.
I walk into work and see a large envelope sitting on my desk. Hmm... I'm not expecting anything. I look at the to address.
I've got a lot of good stories coming up, just not much time and no good internet connection (on purpose). For now, you can read my recent interview at Bipolar Nation. I have another interview coming up at Sole Goal.
In other news, my stalker wrote me another letter. I'll scan it and write about it soon. Adios!
It's 6am and a couple friends and I walk out of my building to get some food. Katz' deli gives half price food to pedicab drivers like my friend Aaron, and I can't turn down a deal. As we walk across the street we see a shady looking fellow walking near where we're parked. Hopefully we can avoid contact.
"Hey guys... can you help me out? My car ran out of gas... "
High school is nearing its final semester and I need a P.E. credit. Actually I need two P.E. credits. If you've ever taken the time to admire my physique, it may surprise you to hear that my high school career is lacking in the Physical Education department. Suspend your disbelief for a moment.
I sign up for bowling by correspondence. It sounds easy and I like bowing. One down, one to go.
"Just take color guard!"