There are days when I am so very happy to veg and not leave the house. Wear sweatpants, lounge in bed and play on the computer.
Today is not one of those days. Today I lay in bed, with my laptop, in sweats, watching a movie. And I am bored out of my fucking skull. This probably isn’t helped by the fact that I attempted to go the Auto Show this weekend (or, y’know, at all), and was totally thwarted. People just flat didn’t get back to me or had other plans. Understandable and no one’s fault, but that leaves me here, barely paying attention to a movie on cable, and wishing it would either torrentially downpour (and melt some of this fucking snow), or that the sun would come out so I don’t feel like I’m living in a post-apocalyptic wasteland where everything is dead and there are cannibals. No, I AM NOT overreacting to not seeing the sun today.
I could try to do something productive with my boredom. Clean, or play guitar for the first time since college, or try and find my yoga mat and watch one of those yoga videos they apparently have on-demand.
Instead, these sweats have holes in them. I need to put my laundry in the dryer. My hair remains un-brushed. And…I’m too bored to even write anymore.