When I was growing up I remember every year during the summer the arrival of the day that was inevitable. You know the day of which I speak. The day boredom moved in with it's sleeping bag for the rest of the summer until school would start again.
I would pine and moan and call out such things as, "Daaaaad. I'm BORED!" To which Dad would reply, "Nothin' wrong with bein' bored. Bein' bored is okay."
I couldn't fathom what he meant by that...until now. What I would give to have a day where I had so little to do that boredom would set in! I flirt with it every so often, but never enough to really say that I was, in fact, bored. I sometimes will write to a friend during work about how bored I am, but when I get to thinking about it, it's just avoiding doing work and not true blissful boredom.
2 comments:
Ahh! Grasshopper, you are getting wiser every day.
It is funny that you should be writing about boredom. Just recently I was reminded of my words to you. I think someone in class mentioned boredom which reminded me of you, and my comment. Thanks for remembering and reminding me.
You now know what to look for when you approach the unique state of boredom.
I love you more each day.
Dad
I love anything that allows for such lingerings.
You are right, it's becomes harder to do nothing without anything when you become older. Never thought I'd see that day.
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