This is a special Sunday edition of Apparently — a newsletter from Ilana Wiles, which you can read about here. If you like it and want more like it in your inbox, consider subscribing.
I’ve been having a bit of a social media crisis lately. I blame tiktok. My For You Page is filled with home decor experts, ridiculously talented artists, angelic singers, fashion connoisseurs, skilled chefs and doctors espousing actual expertise. People are so amazing, I think to myself, as I simultaneously take myself out of that same bucket. Then there are the weddings, the new babies, the weight loss transformations, the business success stories, the home renovations, the major lifestyle changes, etc. After ten years of sharing my mundane, suddenly it feels like you need more talent or bigger news to have something worth sharing. Usually I’m good at making the most out of a small story, but for much of this summer, I felt tapped out. Until yesterday, when something incredible happened. And by “incredible,” I mean incredibly lame by most people’s standards, but in our house, it was VERY BIG NEWS.
Mike and I are not really “gaming” people, but for some reason, earlier this year, we both got into this puzzle game for old people called Woodoku. I know it’s for old people because the ads that pop up in between rounds are always for apps that have been proven to increase brain function in 80 year-olds. Woodoku is a little like tetris without a time limit, so you can easily play while listening to a podcast or while you are on the phone (sorry, mom) or on the toilet, obviously. I do not recommend downloading it unless you want to destroy your life.
Mike and I both played the standard game for awhile, where you just play to beat your high score, which didn’t seem so intrusive, but then I discovered an option called “Journey” which takes you through a series of increasingly hard puzzles. There are 48 levels in total. The kicker is, you have six days to complete the journey and then it’s over and a new one starts, whether you finished or not. For most of the time I’ve been playing, I have only gotten to around level 25 before it ends. It just gets too hard and you have to spend way too much time to complete the upper levels. I was okay with this.
Then, a few weeks ago (12 days to be exact), I realized Mike did not know about the journey option and made the mistake of telling him. Unfortunately for the productivity in both of our lives, this discovery quickly became a competition to see who could complete the 48 levels first. Every puzzle and piece you are given is exactly the same, so it’s as equal a competition as you can get. And since you have six days to complete the journey, it can be quite a monumental time suck. And when I say time suck, I mean every empty moment that wasn’t being spent meeting a work deadline or taking care of the kids was spent playing this game. I would wake up at 5am to Mike playing in bed next to me and then have to catch up. Or he would be driving somewhere and then notice me playing in the passenger seat and be like, “That’s not fair!” The kids kept noticing that we were only half paying attention during family TV sessions, until they stopped watching TV and just started watching us play. Let’s not talk about all the extra time spent in the bathroom.
Mike and I thought we were competing to see who would win first. We figured if we dedicated enough time to Woodoku, one of us would surely complete the journey and that would be the end of it. I don’t think either one of us considered that finishing all 48 levels was outside of our reach. But the levels kept getting increasingly difficult and more time consuming to complete. Reaching the end started to seem impossible. By the end of the six days, we both got all the way up to Level 43 but then we both got stuck. I cannot tell you how many times we tried. Then the six days was up and we both had to admit defeat. What a colossal waste of time. Surely we would not do that again, right? ONE WOULD THINK.
The next morning, I woke up to Mike tapping away at his iPhone. “What are you doing?”
“New journey started!”
“Seriously??? FUCK, okay.”
For the last six days, we both played tirelessly. Mike would get way ahead and then I would have to catch up. I would get stuck and then he would pass me again. Our jobs went ignored. Our house is a mess. Our kids have accused us both of being addicted. (They are right.) About four days in, we both finally reached Level 48 (a first!), but then neither of us could pass it. I played so many times, I had all the moves memorized up until a certain point and then I would make a wrong move and have to start over. It was brutal. It got so bad, I promised the kids that once the journey ended, I would never play again, regardless of whether I completed it or not. “I don’t believe you, Mommy!”
Finally, it was the last day of the journey. I resigned myself that it was over. I felt better knowing that Mike had failed as well. And then, with just six hours left, I was sitting on the bathroom floor while Harlow took a shower, and decided to try one last time. I did all the moves I memorized. Then I got to uncharted territory. I tried to think differently than all my previous attempts. I tried to focus harder. I tried to think several steps ahead with each move. I thought it was over a few times but then a miraculous piece appeared that allowed me to keep going. And going. And going. And then, it happened. I did it. I’m not sure how, but I completed Level 48. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. I called to Harlow in the shower.
“Harlow!!! Guess what?!”
“What??”
“I did it!!!”
“You completed the journey??!!!! You have to tell Daddy!!!”
I ran down the stairs to tell the rest of my family. I found Mazzy and Mike at the front door about to walk Frankie.
“Guys. Guess what. I have something major to tell you.”
They looked at me, waiting.
“It’s really big news. Are you ready?”
They stared back at me. I paused extra long for dramatic effect.
“What?”
I took a big breath and exhaled.
“I completed the journey.”
“WHAT?! LEVEL 48? YOU COMPLETED IT? I DON’T BELIEVE YOU.” Mike was rightfully incredulous.
“Look.” I flipped my phone towards them as Mazzy and Mike gathered around me. Then I tapped the final button (I had purposefully saved this moment) so they could see me win my big reward. Digital confetti fell from the top of my tiny phone screen and then the magic words “Congratulations. You have completed the journey” appeared in a banner next to a button that said “Collect your award.” My big reward? A gold digital medallion worth absolutely nothing.
“Screenshot that!” Mazzy cried. And so I did.
It was a good day. A slightly pathetic day. But an accomplished day nonetheless. A day that said, “And now Ilana, you can go back to living and doing what you do best.”
What do I do best exactly? Well, I might not be an incredible artist, an accomplished chef or be able to put together five “outfits of the day” without having an emotional breakdown, but I can certainly weave a story out of nothing. That’s my talent.
Please feel free to share your own personal news (no matter how small) in the comments!
Summer is almost over, which means that pretty soon I am going to start writing select posts for paid subscribers only. The plan is also to limit the comment section to paid subscribers, but I’m feeling really nervous about it!!!! I love this community so much. To help ease my anxiety, if you are not yet a paying subscriber, consider making the switch. If you are a paying subscriber, thank you so much for your support. If you would like to contribute but for whatever reason, cannot do so at this time, please just send me an email. This community is for everyone.
Some Personal (and Pathetic) News!
I was riveted by this story. 😆 And honestly, one of the reasons I love following you is because you seem like a friend I might hang out with. TikTok is fun, but I don’t feel connected to influencers whose lives are perfect or so different from my own. Keep being yourself, it’s all we want!
You do have an amazing story telling talent. Often times I find my thoughts in your very nicely articulated writing.