I have crammed this week to bursting, and we just passed the halfway point.
On Monday I took the train to work for the first time in a while. I enjoyed the chance to skim the morning’s news on an inky copy of the Boston Metro, and I got some reading done on the bus ride from Central to the office. I took the office’s complementary shuttle back to Cambridge for the train ride home. It says something of urban priorities that what might sound like a slur in certain parts of the country – “he takes the bus to work, man” – sounds like a bonus here.
I also auditioned for ImprovBoston’s next round of casting. Ten other guys and I filed into IB’s spacious new theater, warmed up briefly, then did ten minutes straight of freeform improv scenes. I feel reasonably confident in what I did – I forced myself off the back wall, made offers, heightened offers, responded well to others’ input. With the virtue of hindsight I can say this wasn’t enough, since the director said we’d hear back by Wednesday evening at the latest, but I’m glad I got myself out there.
I took some time off from jiu-jitsu in order to pack and move, so returning on Tuesday felt phenomenal. I had been looking for excuses to punch, throw or grab something for a week at least. Working out in a converted warehouse in a 10-pound cotton gi when it’s 90 degrees out left me swimming in sweat but otherwise healthy.
Melissa and Fraley invited me to their ice cave to watch the Celtics, so I changed into a clean shirt and drove straight there. Despite the Celtics’ sloppy play I had a hell of a time. RJ already documented some of the best exchanges; I’ll merely include one:
(during iPod commercial)
Melissa: Ugh. Coldplay.
Me: You have a problem with the non-threatening U2?
Fraley: How do you get less threatening than U2?
RJ: You could be Keaneand be a non-threatening Coldplay.
Wednesday saw me reviving two more dormant traditions – the gym and writing. I probably undid all the efforts of the former by gorging on ice cream and brownies during a sales meeting (hey, they know how to guarantee my attendance), but the latter felt productive. Then I hit up karaoke, singing “This Is How We Do It” at birthday girl Sylvia’s request. Hitting that titular declaration in full voice, right off the 4-count lead in, really cements the song’s success. Pull it off and soar; fumble it and crash.
And I’ve already got busy nights lined up tonight and tomorrow as well. The Fortress of Solitude hasn’t hindered my style (yet).