Boredom at work is fast replacing incompetent 3-piece excuses for people as the most irritating thing about my days. Despite the constant complaints that protrude from my general work area when busy, I have recently discovered that actually having nothing to do, or at least nothing worth doing, is actually a far worse way to spend your days.
As a hairy faced colleague has just recently pointed out these are the best times in work, the Mackinaw peaches if you will, appearing once a year, for an all too brief visit, before disappearing into a pit of despair and deadlines that will surely envelop your will to live.
The sad thing is that having nothing to do with my day was the absolute best thing in the world six months ago; the highs and lows of daytime television, the giddy thrill of doing your food shopping on a Tuesday and a Wednesday afternoon (why carry a load of heavy shopping bags back when you can go twice and split the load?) and that every elusive hungover DVD day which was shamelessly entered into on a Thursday afternoon.
All this relaxing and experiencing life however took its toll so the weekends were reserved for good old fashioned takeaways and general self destruction on a level that is usually considered to be excessive for a sixth year holiday.
But alas this is no longer the case. The working life has sapped my enthusiasm for boredom and indeed creation. They say you should never make your hobbies your profession since it’ll suck all the fun out of them.
However, I’m not quite sure it’s accurate to list boredom as a hobby, particularly as it’s a metaphysical construct, as opposed to an activity one can actively engage in, but whatever the case doing nothing has lost it’s something special.
This rant will have to be cut short since a staff meeting has been called. It’s still doing nothing but at least there’s pizza.
Every cloud.
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