I left work early, onna counta suffering from drug-induced brain deadedness. Anyway, one of my upstairs neighbors was leaving with his Lab puppy (who, by the way, is not looking so very puppyish anymore) as I was coming in. We did the “HowareyouI’mfinehowareyou” routine, and he said that he was having a crappy day, because he was off work and BORED. Bored?! WTF is that?! I think I was bored once, in 1975[1].
He said that he works so much that when he has a day off, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Dude, get a hobby! Or learn to appreciate the fine art of ass-sitting[2].
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1. My mom’s cure for bored children was to put them to work, so I quickly learned that being bored would never, ever be to my benefit.
2. I ran into a high school classmate a couple of years after graduation. After catching up for a few minutes, he commented that one thing he missed about being a teenager was not having sufficient time to sit on his ass and do nothing. Amen, Pedro.
red paper boat 