Bored, bored, bored
So I get home from work at about 5 and I go to bed at about 10 so that I can get up around 7:30 to catch a rerun of the Colbert Report. I've got no problem with the schedule. I enjoy work more than I thought I would and I actually get to do a decent variety of stuff. And there's lots of phone calls from clients, which I really enjoy. But when I get home at 5, there's nothing to do. There are actually plenty of things I can do, just ask Nell (dishes, tidy up, rub my back, read Harry Potter, etc.). There are even things I can do that I enjoy, I'm just not in the mood to do.
On previous occasions I have referred to this as ennui. And it's back. I desperately want to do something, but there's just nothing to do. Fortunately last night I was rescued by a pleasant evening with friends, and tonight (for an hour anyway) by some emergency babysitting (although the baby was nowhere to be seen).
So I've been reading law review articles on everything from consumption tax to section 132 fringe benefits. I've drawn a picture, knitted a small square, and picked my toenails thoroughly. I've played some guitar, some mandolin, and picked the lint out of my bellybutton. Speaking of bellybutton lint, I accumulate a lot. I guess the size of one's bellybutton is determined by the cutting of the umbilical cord or some such thing, but regardless, my bellybutton is quite deep and prone to collecting lint. One time, I pulled out a clump of lint, and this is no joke, the size, weight, and density of a buffalo nickel. It was totally awesome. Also, it was grey-blue.
But I digress. And that reminds me of something. When I was a senior in high school, I had a brief run as an opinion columnist for the school paper. I wrote four columns, and each one was a random digression worth considerably less than the paper on which it was printed. One column was about driving etiquette, and even Andy Rooney would be embarassed to spew the kind of crap on spewed that issue. Another was an incoherent and misdirected attack on aliens and manufacturers of cotton socks. It also involved some discussion of tin foil vs. aluminum foil that didn't bear much connection to the rest of the article.
My pride and joy of my short tenure on the newspaper was my column about the fungus that was growing on my left shoulder. I knew it was a fungus (as opposed to a rash) because of the scalloped edges. It is worth pointing out that this particular column featured the first ever and last ever inter-column poem. Per my request, the poem was put in italics. It even featured a plug for Lotrimin and a prescient warning about the dangers of global warming. I'll see if I can dig up a copy of the column, cause it was awesome.
Anyway, I've been a little bored lately. I just thought you would all want to know.
On previous occasions I have referred to this as ennui. And it's back. I desperately want to do something, but there's just nothing to do. Fortunately last night I was rescued by a pleasant evening with friends, and tonight (for an hour anyway) by some emergency babysitting (although the baby was nowhere to be seen).
So I've been reading law review articles on everything from consumption tax to section 132 fringe benefits. I've drawn a picture, knitted a small square, and picked my toenails thoroughly. I've played some guitar, some mandolin, and picked the lint out of my bellybutton. Speaking of bellybutton lint, I accumulate a lot. I guess the size of one's bellybutton is determined by the cutting of the umbilical cord or some such thing, but regardless, my bellybutton is quite deep and prone to collecting lint. One time, I pulled out a clump of lint, and this is no joke, the size, weight, and density of a buffalo nickel. It was totally awesome. Also, it was grey-blue.
But I digress. And that reminds me of something. When I was a senior in high school, I had a brief run as an opinion columnist for the school paper. I wrote four columns, and each one was a random digression worth considerably less than the paper on which it was printed. One column was about driving etiquette, and even Andy Rooney would be embarassed to spew the kind of crap on spewed that issue. Another was an incoherent and misdirected attack on aliens and manufacturers of cotton socks. It also involved some discussion of tin foil vs. aluminum foil that didn't bear much connection to the rest of the article.
My pride and joy of my short tenure on the newspaper was my column about the fungus that was growing on my left shoulder. I knew it was a fungus (as opposed to a rash) because of the scalloped edges. It is worth pointing out that this particular column featured the first ever and last ever inter-column poem. Per my request, the poem was put in italics. It even featured a plug for Lotrimin and a prescient warning about the dangers of global warming. I'll see if I can dig up a copy of the column, cause it was awesome.
Anyway, I've been a little bored lately. I just thought you would all want to know.
posted by Fishfrog at 7:19 PM
2 Comments:
how can you be bored? you have cable.
Oh how we appreciated the last minute emergency babysitting and the conversation. The police frown upon leaving your child asleep in bed while you go pick up your husband. I guess I kind of frown upon it too.
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