Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Troop surge needed. Ever wonder?

I've met with the upper command people and they seem to agree a troop surge is needed. The war on Boredom is not going very well currently. There hasn't been much collateral damage this time, which is good for PR, but I haven't advanced my mission much either. Now, before you start to think that perhaps I'm acting like a totalitarian oppressor forcing changes where none are desired, let me remind you of something. Boredom wants me on that wall, boredom needs me that wall! (That would have more punch if I got Colonel Jessup to say it)

Things I've discussed with upper command in conjunction with a troop surge for the fight against Boredom:
1. learning to use power tools to execute needed home improvements
2. an extended period of self-imposed exile to Newfoundland
3. cutting my own hair with dull scissors (dull as in 'not sharp' not dull as in 'boring')
4. ordering a "Code Red" (Hey, if it's good enough for Col. Jessup it's good enough for me.)

For me, boredom usually feels like a general ennui for my day to day activities and a desire for new scenery, new input, getting away. I get antsy, agitated. That's not how Boredom is manifesting itself this time though. I actually feel pretty content and satisfied with each day as it comes and goes. It's my creative side that feels bored. I haven't been inspired to write much here, or anywhere for that matter. I've had some ideas, started some stories, but nothing catches my imagination. I don't feel anxious to escape anything which makes me less inclined to travel and explore. That's the part that worries me. Without an adventurous spirit it's easy to lose the sparks of creativity which are my weapons against boredom. Being creative during times of turmoil and dissatisfaction is natural for me. When I'm happy, it takes more effort to be adventurous. Wanting to be creative while feeling content with my life is a new challenge for me. I think I'm up for it.
Have you ever wondered what would it feel like to be driving along at 73 mph, fiddling with the radio, looking at your cell phone, putting away a CD,etc and when you look up you're headed for the guardrail that separates you from a 75 foot drop to the river below? Yeah, me neither. That's morbid. What kind of weirdo would wonder about that?

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