On the bored~erline... and stumbling.
The topic of this post is BOREDOM. As you can see, this isn't just regular old boredom, the kind you get when you have to wait for the margarine to melt on your crumpet. I mean the big, serif style font kind of boredom that afflicts many people with desk jobs the nation o'er.
It swoops on you suddenly. You're just updating that order list or checking that e-mail information when a wave of deep deep grey tugs you down to your desk top by your already sloped and aching shoulders. You feel groggy, dizzy even, and yet cannot find sleep in your work establishment lest you be dismissed immediately by your boss.
Actually, that's unfair to my boss (hereby known as Pedantic Stuart). The boredom has struck his tired spine as much as it has mine, and he leans back in his uncomfortable office chair as if in a moment he's going to loll back in a dead boredom-induced faint. We look at each other apologetically. We know that it's neither of our faults, but after this mornings flurry of excitement, we could really have gone home with no-one the wiser. It has been deader than several extinct exotic specieses of orchid, in the radiator showroom, since 1 o'clock. I feel another wave of dull dead gray enfeeble my already wavering mind. At this rate we two grown adult men might actually have to talk about something serious or world-affecting (god forbid!).
We sigh. We sit. At one point I feel like sobbing. Nothing continues to happen, much as it has been for - jesus christ - 2 and a half hours?!? That's even longer than it takes for me to get conscious in the mornings! I quickly reach for the computer keyboard. Blogging is my only salvation now... ALAS! ALACK! The internet connection has fallen out. A few minutes and some delicate under-desk shimmying later, I return to the workstation and type these words.
And now I am finished. There is a whole hour until I am able to trudge home wearily. Pedantic Stuart's 'best of Bryan Ferry' album could get through another 5 replays in that time. I may even go mad. Well, madder. Save me, internet! Comment!
Much thanks,
The Gent
It swoops on you suddenly. You're just updating that order list or checking that e-mail information when a wave of deep deep grey tugs you down to your desk top by your already sloped and aching shoulders. You feel groggy, dizzy even, and yet cannot find sleep in your work establishment lest you be dismissed immediately by your boss.
Actually, that's unfair to my boss (hereby known as Pedantic Stuart). The boredom has struck his tired spine as much as it has mine, and he leans back in his uncomfortable office chair as if in a moment he's going to loll back in a dead boredom-induced faint. We look at each other apologetically. We know that it's neither of our faults, but after this mornings flurry of excitement, we could really have gone home with no-one the wiser. It has been deader than several extinct exotic specieses of orchid, in the radiator showroom, since 1 o'clock. I feel another wave of dull dead gray enfeeble my already wavering mind. At this rate we two grown adult men might actually have to talk about something serious or world-affecting (god forbid!).
We sigh. We sit. At one point I feel like sobbing. Nothing continues to happen, much as it has been for - jesus christ - 2 and a half hours?!? That's even longer than it takes for me to get conscious in the mornings! I quickly reach for the computer keyboard. Blogging is my only salvation now... ALAS! ALACK! The internet connection has fallen out. A few minutes and some delicate under-desk shimmying later, I return to the workstation and type these words.
And now I am finished. There is a whole hour until I am able to trudge home wearily. Pedantic Stuart's 'best of Bryan Ferry' album could get through another 5 replays in that time. I may even go mad. Well, madder. Save me, internet! Comment!
Much thanks,
The Gent
posted by Gentleman at
1:38 PM
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