How bored can I be and for how long?
I consider all the things I could do: feed the dog, go work on my bike, read a book, research suicide methods on the internet. None of those, however, are interesting enough to move me from my seated position here on the couch. I’m not even motivated to rise and turn up the heat; it’s not boring enough to be warm; I’d rather sit here being bored with being chilly.
What is boredom, anyway? It’s a feeling that there’s something more interesting to do, that the world holds greater charms than one is experiencing, and that you deserve better than you’re getting at the moment. It would seem, therefore, that one ought to be bored at every moment. And perhaps we are.
There’s also an aspect of fear that goes alone with boredom; it’s a fear that this is all there is—that this is what you’ve got to look forward to for the rest of your life. I’m afraid that if I’m bored now, imagine how bored I’ll be as an even older man with really nothing to do.
Mom used to say, as all moms do, that there isn’t really anything that’s boring; there are only boring people. So, if you’re bored, it’s all your fault. I’m not so sure. Surely, I wouldn’t be so bored if I had something interesting to do like lying on a beach drinking a pina colada between bouts of body surfing and beer-drinking.
I also wouldn’t be bored if the Steelers game was on right now. So, clearly, I’m only bored because the future holds better prospects.
If I were dead I wouldn’t be bored, unless I go to heaven and have to hang out at the right hand of God for all eternity. Even if it’s pure bliss all the time, it’s going to be boring, simply for lack of variety.
Kind of like this, only without the chill.
I consider all the things I could do: feed the dog, go work on my bike, read a book, research suicide methods on the internet. None of those, however, are interesting enough to move me from my seated position here on the couch. I’m not even motivated to rise and turn up the heat; it’s not boring enough to be warm; I’d rather sit here being bored with being chilly.
What is boredom, anyway? It’s a feeling that there’s something more interesting to do, that the world holds greater charms than one is experiencing, and that you deserve better than you’re getting at the moment. It would seem, therefore, that one ought to be bored at every moment. And perhaps we are.
There’s also an aspect of fear that goes alone with boredom; it’s a fear that this is all there is—that this is what you’ve got to look forward to for the rest of your life. I’m afraid that if I’m bored now, imagine how bored I’ll be as an even older man with really nothing to do.
Mom used to say, as all moms do, that there isn’t really anything that’s boring; there are only boring people. So, if you’re bored, it’s all your fault. I’m not so sure. Surely, I wouldn’t be so bored if I had something interesting to do like lying on a beach drinking a pina colada between bouts of body surfing and beer-drinking.
I also wouldn’t be bored if the Steelers game was on right now. So, clearly, I’m only bored because the future holds better prospects.
If I were dead I wouldn’t be bored, unless I go to heaven and have to hang out at the right hand of God for all eternity. Even if it’s pure bliss all the time, it’s going to be boring, simply for lack of variety.
Kind of like this, only without the chill.
And, another mom-ism - be careful what you wish for, because when the Steelers game was finally on last night, they lost.
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