Wil Wheaton
You know what sucks? I haven't been able to do much more than passively watch DVDs, because even trying to focus long enough to read is exhausting.
You know that Jonny Wurster kid, the kid that does the backend for that other website? He's a foreign kid. Some of the neighbors say he smokes crack, but I don't believe it.
When I was so sick about ten days ago, I had a fever-induced epiphany: I needed to make several changes in my life. I needed to redefine some boundaries, and re-organize my priorities.
When I told Anne that I just hate it that I can't help her, especially since I keep asking her to do stuff for me, she said, "It's okay. This is the 'sickness' part of 'sickness and health.'"
When I get the redesign launched, there will be minimal advertising. I'm doing this because I believe I've found a tasteful and non-intrusive way to help support my family.
This may seem like stupid semantics on my part, but actors are so often misrepresented in the press, I feel it's important to set the record straight here. Residual payments are not profit-sharing. Residual payments are reuse fees that producers pay to actors when they've re-used the actor's performance a certain number of times.
My wife is the most awesome person in the universe. She's made this experience much less miserable for me, with her compassion, patience and understanding.
If the world were a bar, America would currently be the angry drunk waving around a loaded gun. Yeah, the other people in the bar may be afraid of him, but they sure as hell don't respect him.
I'm guess I'm up to about 70% of normal, which is a real relief. My doctor gave me clearance to go out in public again, so I've been able to go to the store and help out a little bit around the house.
I'm a passionate person, and I'm passionate about politics. I'm going to write about it, and I'm not going to pull any punches.
I believe that everything happens for a reason, and I believe that I didn't come down with a crippling case of mono that forced me to bring my life to a complete halt just because The Universe hit a two-outer on the River to take me down.
For months, something had been bothering me, and I couldn't put my finger on it. It was like seeing something out of the corner of my eye that vanished whenever I tried to look directly at it, but it suddenly came into focus: I have felt, for a very long time, like people wanted a piece of me, and I'd willingly given it up.
Call it what you want: over-extended, spread too thin, burned-out... the bottom line is, in an effort to put lots of irons in the fire, help some people out, and increase my opportunities to retire in style at the age of 25, I've given too much of myself to other people, and there hasn't been enough left over for me and the people I love.
Before some readers freak out that I don't think $695 for four hours is very good, let me put this into perspective: in those four hours, we usually do several hundred takes, often screaming and yelling.
As an actor and writer, husband and father, I have two often-conflicting monkeys on my back: Monkey number one is Creative Monkey. He occasionally digs his claws into my brains, and refuses to let go until something wonderful comes out. I love him.