Only Boring People…
Only boring people get bored.
Staying with Jo’s family during the school holidays was – if not a trip, then at least a minor detour – down memory lane. The thing that stood out the most was Heidi’s constant refrain: “what can I doOOo?”
I can remember pestering my mum with this question many times a day through the school holidays. I’ve read all the books in the house, it’s raining so I can’t go outside… what can I DO? Mum’s response was usually (oh, you guessed it?) “go clean up your room?” or “do the dishes!” or “hang the washing on the line for me?” and my answer to those suggestions varied from a flat-out “NO” to a despondent sigh, an unbecoming grunt or a wrinkled nose. And at some point or another, I’d invariably whine “I’m Bo-ored”.
Now I can watch Heidi go through the same routine, and Jo parroting off the answers…
“What can I DO, Mum?”
“Clean the bathroom for me?”
“NO.”
“Then go find something to do yourself”
“But I’m BORED!”
And inevitably, by the end of the day, all I can think of are those words of wisdom – Only Boring People Get Bored. I’m not sure where the truth lies in that little gem, or even where I first heard it, but it always makes me feel inferior in some way. I guess it’s just a reminder that I’m not as interesting as I like to think – that I’m really not that creative, not bursting with new ideas or raring to start some new project every ten minutes. Of course, now I’m older the boredom only sets in when I’m feeling really lazy. There’s housework to do, homework to write, pictures to be drawn and never enough hours in the day to get it all done. Admittedly, those things hardly make me any less boring – it’s highly probable, in fact, that they make me more so. But when I’m sitting here on my computer, tapping the keys mindlessly, thinking ‘I’m Bo-ORED’ to myself, I get a little twinge, and I wish I were just a little less boring.
