Self examination of boredom
Imagine having a bit more money. Or a bit more spare time. Or both, but your health lets you down. Let’s face it, we don’t always get dealt the best cards in the game.
This is the point where a reality check comes into the equation. Today, I was uncomfortable. The routine is starting to set in – dripping a witch’s brew into the eye and then waiting a couple of hours to start again. There is some pain, some itching that I’m not allowed to scratch. Whether I close my eyes or try to stare into space, I’m aware that things aren’t right.
I tried distraction. There are a lot of old, bad movies to watch. I have more than a lifetime of reading to do. Music… think of standing before a great, sandy desert. Instead, I’m taking great solace from the healing concept. Slow, though.
Maybe I’ll find a ball of twine and try to knit a net. There’s a needle around here, somewhere. I’ve been shown the basic stitch. That will use up the hours, even though I have no need for a net of indeterminate size and no plan to go fishing. At least not for a few years.
Or, I could try and put some order into a drawer, or a cupboard, or some other area of the house that has fallen into disuse due to a lack of working space. There we are, back to ideas. Pity that my realizations pale beside my ambitions.
Do we get life block, akin to writer’s block?
