Just for fun, I've been trying to pinpoint the most boring moment in what may well have been the most boring week of my life. Since last Friday afternoon, I have left the house only to go on solitary walks or, once, to pay a brief visit to the cancer center. Except for my radiation guru, a nurse, and a few strangers in the waiting room, the only human being I've encountered face-to-face all week has been my husband, who is not boring but is often quite busy. I've worn virtually the same boring clothes every day, eaten the same boring leftovers, and puttered through the same boring afternoons, but without a doubt, the most boring moment of the week, the veritable abyss of boredom, occurred when I forgot to take any reading material along to the cancer center:
Reading the Room
Exam table, chairs, and a small rolling stool--
but no book.
Cabinets, drawers, a neat counter and sink--
but no book.
A colorful torso, plastic organs exposed--
but no book.
Time magazine dating from 2008--
but no book.
Time ticking on with sublime unconcern--
but no book.
Darkness, soft breaths, and somnolent snores--
but still no book.
Can anyone possibly write anything more boring than that? Give it a try: verse in any form describing your abyss of boredom.
2 comments:
One of my Mom’s favorite sayings is that only boring people get bored. For that reason, I’ve always looked for the hidden funny in any given situation. There are times, however, when it’s hard to find.
This past year, I’ve found myself doing the most mind numbing things in an effort to bring in an extra dollar or two while seeking new full time employment. These include:
a) Spending ten hours sitting by the side of a white fluffball of a male dog, who goes by the nickname Rebecca, post-surgery in an effort to keep him from scratching out his stitches,
b) Photocopying subpoenaed files the girth of my local telephone book, and
c) Shredding documents that could potentially land a good friend in the slammer. (Not really! These papers would land her in a little a hot water, though, in the unlikely event that some rogue reporter happened to be rifling through her trash.)
The task that has bored me the most, however, has been filing. I absolutely HATE doing it! Just last week, I was lured to the local high school to substitute teach then unceremoniously thrown in the file room and asked to put test scores and progress reports in student files. To commemorate this God awful episode, I offer the following:
Abbot, Anderson, Armstrong
My brain descends to mush.
Barnes, Beaureguard, Bunton
Must Get To The End. Please Rush!
Can’t Believe I’m Filing.
Wow! How did I end up here?
Caleb, Cannon, Cunningham
The monotony brings a tear.
An hour more…. When is my lunch?
I went to school for this?
David, Donohue, Dunbar
Oh sweet brain cells I will miss!
These manila files have mated
Of this I am quite certain!
The “To File” stack seems much higher
Since I my lunch break. My head’s hurtin’!
Taft, Taylor, Thomas, Turner
Please God! I can’t take much more!
Ulna, Umber, Underwood
Almost Done! NO! More files on the floor!
You win though, Bev! Being bored and feeling nauseated at the same time sounds absolutely wretched. Glad you survived it! Have a good weekend! XXOO, Betsy
I sit on the steps
painted brown and slippery
because the bench is too high
and I don't want my legs to dangle
an hour and half I sit here
Mondays and Wednesdays
Books, paperwork, laptop I bring
but shouts of "Hi-Ya" and "oww"
distract mefrom even thinking
sometimes I sit in one place so long my underwear cuts into my backside
while my screaming son rolls on the floor
frustrated by boredom
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