Just gotta read these books real quick.
As you spend less time on the internet, you’ll inevitably end up using that time doing something else. It’s not really up to you. The sun moves around the planet and slowly but surely time goes by. Will you end up volunteering? It’s very possible.
On Wednesday evening, I got a mysterious text from my boxing coach asking if I could “help” him Thursday. I’ve helped him a bunch of times before. He often recruits us young gullible boxers to help him with manual labour. I personally installed most of the heavy bags in the gym (three out of six is a majority, yay democracy.) We also helped his daughter pack all her stuff and move into her new apartment about two months ago.
I parked at the gym Thursday once I was done school. I piled into his minivan, joining the crew of lean, mean and gullible boxers. He told us it would be just be “moving a few wheelbarrows of gravel, for a pool.” How would moving a “few” wheelbarrows of gravel establish a pool? He didn’t really tell us. Maybe they just wanted the gravel around the pool, to be aesthetically pleasing? Maybe with a patio stone border. Yeah, that’d be nice. I could see that.
We started the adventure by moving a small pile of gravel from the driveway, to the pool in the backyard. Where did we put it? Into the pool of course.
The pool had been installed in the 1970s, and having a deep and huge pool was apparently a trend back then. Fast forward to April 2016. There’s been a new owner for a few years, and they’re tired of the huge water bills they get in the summer. They were also tired of running the pool heater 24/7 in the summer and still having a cold ass pool. Too much volume.
So, it started with that first small pile of gravel. About 5 minutes after we finished that pile and felt victorious, a dump truck pulled up and dropped a full bed of gravel on this guy’s driveway. Yay! Round two let’s go.
Here’s a video of the pool after the first small pile and our mini operation:
After the first pile was the second, which we powered through in one hour and fourteen minutes. Then came the third pile, which we also finished in one hour and fourteen minutes. Coincidence? Possibly. It’s possible. It’s a possibility. Is 1:14 a Satanic number? Quite possibly. Or is John 1:14?
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.
Yeah, probably that actually.
Anyways, here’s a video of the pool after the third pile:
The homeowner (Boxing coach’s brother from another mother) had to return the Bobcat at 5pm, so we called it a day after that third pile. Still needs more labour, but the date was left TBA.
To quote my main man Jesus,
Then He said to His disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. “Therefore beseech the Lord of the harvest to send out workers into His harvest.” -(Matthew 9:37)
When I first transitioned from security guardin’ to construction, it took a while. As the LBGTQP community will tell you, transitioning and coming out can be a long process. Before I could make fat stacks by only working 70 hours a week, I started off volunteering at Habitat for Humanity carrying wheelbarrows of cement to the blocklayers on a Saturday morning. Volunteering. Couch potatoes and losers would call it “working for free” or “stupid”, but if you have delusions of building wealth like me you know that no labour is ever in vain. It always brings you one step closer. It brings you one more connection, one more idea. One more reference point.
I did my fair share of putzing around with a Dewalt drill too. Putting up railings. Putting together cupboards. Did a lot of sweeping. I still sweep like I’m on the Olympic Curling Team. “Organizing”. I’ve organized so many toolboxes and trailers. I could organize whole neighborhoods and run for Senator if I really wanted to.
Where am I going with this guide? I haven’t given you guys any tips at all really. Just a couple shoddy videos and bible quotes.
Unfortunately that’s all the time we have tonight folks.
No labour is ever in vain,
I’ll set the scene.
Two hours ago. 8:20pm on a Saturday night. Possible plans to go drink booze downtown, but I’m sleepy. Not feeling it. I hop on the home wifi to Google some keywords, for an article I might write at Starbucks tonight instead.
Fast forward to 8:40pm. KnowYourMeme.com is really entertaining and I’m glued to the couch. Luckily I run the best NoSurf blog on the planet. In a moment of clarity, I told my thumbs to put my phone down on the couch. Once Al Gore’s spell was broken, I jumped in my car and went to my favourite Starbucks.
Alas, the doors were locked. An adorable note was taped to the glass. It stated that the interior was closed (for reasons unspecified), but the drive thru was still open. Yeah right Starbucks, all I want is wifi and you know it. We don’t need to play this cat and mouse game. We’re adults.
I have some legitimate stuff to do on the internet that’s due Monday afternoon, so I jumped back in my 12-year old American sedan and cruised 10 minutes to the next Starbucks in the city.
I walk in the doors of this…other Starbucks. Not the one I’m used to, but due to the adherence to corporate policy it’s identical in every way. Seems legit.
The Wifi didn’t connect right away, weird. I ignored it for a bit. After doing my work with pencil and paper for 15 minutes, I asked the Barista if there was a trick for getting on the wifi. She informed me that the “trick” was to have working internet, as their wifi was down all day. Dang.
If there’s one thing I love, it’s a challenge. I migrated from the cold corporate environment of Starbucks #2 to the cozy independent cafe 5 doors down. As I ordered another coffee, I warmly interrogated the cashier about the status of the Wifi. The place was packed, but he assured me that the wifi was fully operational.
Third time’s the charm. Wait. I spent another 20 minutes doing my work on paper as my laptop “failed to connect to network”. I left without finishing the coffee.
Fourth time’s the charm. Instead of resigning to a consolation beer of failure, I walked into the fourth coffeehouse of the night and was greatly rewarded with sweet sweet internet.
I ordered a mint tea at this point to prevent super-insomnia.
Why was it so important that I obtained wifi at a cafe tonight, instead of just doing my work at home?
1. I wouldn’t get any work done at home. That’s a given.
2. I would, slowly but surely, go from spending 20 minutes on KnowYourMeme.com to accumulating 4 hours of screentime all over the Internets by the end of the night. That’s a given.
3. I was sleepy then, and I’m sleepy now. Sleepy Jonny + Home Internet ≠ Sleep. When I’m sleepy I just want to watch silly Youtube videos all night. I’m like an 8-year old who had too much hot chocolate. I just want to stay up….because! Come on, all the other kids get to stay up. You always say that.
NoSurf = Guaranteed NoFap. This weekend has been fairly different for me schedule-wise, so I know from 4 years of experience that I should spend as many hours away from my bed and home internet as possible. Now that I’ve gotten my bearings at this 4th coffeehouse, I opened the (Legacy)Freedom app on my Smartphone and blocked wifi for the next 13 hours, ensuring my victory against Al Gore for tonight.
Sometimes it’s easy to be a NoSurf-Neanderthal. Sometimes it’s really inconvenient and silly.
But hey, today’s another W in the books. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. At least I squeezed a blog post out of this evening adventure.
When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. When life gives you internet addiction, make a NoSurf website.