I’m officially one of those people who blogs, not because I have anything to say, but because I am so bored I’m considering alphabetizing every product in my shower. Brian’s ship is underway until Sunday, the one social event I had tonight got canceled, I’m already sick of the book I’m reading, there are no movies I want to see in the theater (no amount of boredom could entice me to see “Sydney White”) and we still don’t have cable hooked up in our apartment.
Of course there are things I should do, productive things like emptying the dishwasher or cleaning the bathroom or brushing up on my French literature, but those things can wait. I’m busy wallowing in my own ennui. It’s way existential.
This is my new plan for the evening:
6:00: Start writing e-mails to the people I should have written back to weeks ago
6:04: Get distracted by Facebook and start writing on unrelated people’s walls
6:25: Stare in dismay at the junk mail, bills and other crap in the living room that I should put away
6:27: Halfheartedly shuffle the papers into a neater stack on the coffee table
6:28: Open a beer
6:30: Attempt to read the last two chapters of my book
6:35: Stalk my building manager again to see if he has our cable installation package
6:36: Mutter obscenities under my breath when he’s not there and I end up running into the blond chick from downstairs who always complains that we walk around “too loudly” à la Mr. Heckles
6:38: Wonder how many beers one can consume alone before it becomes a red flag
6:40: Open another one anyway
That’s really as far as I’ve gotten. I might throw in some aimless YouTube viewing or blog surfing, just to keep things fresh. Remember the time when I actually had places to go and friends in the same city to hang out with? Yeah…that was awesome.