I suppose everyone has that occasional day or two in their lives when they’re bored stiff and can’t lift a finger to do anything that seems even remotely interesting. Today’s been one of those days. There’s a lot I could be doing, but because none of it’s dire, I can’t be bothered. As a result, boredom has reached such drastic heights that I’ve started to consider taking on new hobbies like embroidery and pottery. A sad state of affairs indeed. Over the last eight hours, I’ve read the news, I've watched the news, I've taken on the lives of the performers in Water for Elephants, I've read Architectural Digest (my new hobby) till I’m blue in the face, I've played with the by-now weary cat at regular intervals of 2.32 minutes, all to no avail. I’m still bored beyond words. It’s 9.09 p.m. and I’m ready for bed and have been for two hours. All this because at 11 a.m. this morning I decided to take a day off from work and live a little.
Few decisions have produced such unfortunate results.
(Excited to go back to work tomorrow.)
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