CCLXX: L'ennui

I don't think I've been seated for so many hours in a very long time--perchance my Sims days of yore. This long weekend has seen my body become sluggish, my back ache, and a cloud of melancholic stagnancy approach me.

Boredom is not a good state of mind in any environment, particularly one as devoid of stimuli as my house. The main methods of entertainment are the TV and the computer; or else, the quasi-snackless kitchen where rummaging can help you find a rare cookie or piece of cheese. The biggest thrill I have is The Count of Monte Cristo (yes, I know you know) but that requires being seated somewhere. Today I chose my bedroom floor. Bad idea.

Then there's the hourly unnecessary checking of Facebook, Twitter, and email. No, nothing new. Nope, still nothing.

The worst thing about boredom though is that your thoughts take you places you don't wish to go. Memories you believed to have suppressed or locked up somewhere safe seem to rush back full force, triggering emotions you would rather not access and new, unhealthy interpretations of events that are better left as fact, not fiction. But too late, words have been reread and twisted--once tinted with innocence, now tainted with insolence. Imagination changes her mask from creator to destroyer, and you change your tune from whistle to bark.

This is what bothers me: the lack of control. I've said it once and I'll say it again--I could really use a pensieve. And powers of apparition while we're at it, but that's another story.

The French have it right when they call boredom "l'ennui" as the verb "ennuyer" means both "to bore" and "to annoy".

You win this round, but I am so eviter-ing you next time!