Hurry the fuck up

The other day I was reading this post (it’s from the blog I recommended last week, written by the writer of Pirates Of The Caribbean and Shrek).

It really struck a chord with me, especially the part where he calculates the number of days he has left before he turns 60 (the age after which no one is that surprised if you happen to drop dead). He’s 42, so it turns out he has around 6,500 days left (and bearing in mind that column was written a good decade ago, he’s down to less than half that now). Of course, he might live to be 120, but then again he might not, and it’s far better to err on the side of caution, because if you get it wrong the stakes are pretty high.

I was chatting on exactly this subject to Mark Denton. He then gave me a way of looking at it that was for more chilling/inspiring:

if you think about your whole life as a week, what day are you on?

I know life expectancy is increasing, but if you divide your seventy years into a decade per day, are you, like me, coming up to bedtime on Thursday? Or have you perhaps reached Friday teatime?

Whichever it is, maybe that’ll sharpen your thinking enough to swap the odd evening of GTAV for a few hours progressing that much-ignored screenplay.

The clock is ticking…