I Have Washbored Abs.

bored1There was one phrase which was never uttered in my house growing up. This phrase always caused small explosions and (possibly) pain to whichever of the children forgot themselves and muttered it under their breath. The phrase was, (parents may want to shield their children’s eyes) “I”m bored.” There are two reasons this phrase was never uttered in my house; the first was that my parents simply delighted in trying relieve us of boredom with household chores and the second was that announcing that we were bored was as good as confessing that it was us that left the kitchen a mess, our toys strewn about, and the holes in the hallway floor.

I’m not in any way suggesting that I become destructive when I’m bored, it’s just that after a certain desperate period where I vainly try to fill the endlessly stretching afternoon hours with productive work, I become distracted and start “fiddling” with things that really should be left to professionals. Hasn’t anyone else ever tried to find out where the phrase “like trying to shave a cat” came from?

The reason that I’m bringing this up now of course is that I am once again plagued with boredom. It happens nearly every school year about this time when I suddenly realize that this is the second time this year where I’ll be instructing students on how to use a drawing compass without stabbing themselves in the eye. It’s not that I don’t have anything to do, really, but more that I have zero desire to do any of it.

People with delicate dispositions or morals should be warned of my condition as I’ve discovered over the years that those types of folks don’t really mix well with my boredom. Unfortunately the air raid sirens must’ve failed because this very morning I received in my box my 39th student “psych eval” sheet. freudBearing in mind that I am totally unqualified to evaluate the mental state or bathroom preferences of any of my students, it is a mystery to me why anyone would seek my opinion as to Little Ophelia’s mental status. Needless to say, having this eval sheet in my possession in MY current mental state is a recipe for disaster. Either I will totally ignore the request to offer my unqualified opinion (highly likely) or I will become SO bored that I will decide to fill out the sheet in such a way that when folded into thirds renders a picture of Freud smoking a stogie.

In any case, people with heart conditions, pregnant women, senior citizens, Polynesians, and vegans are all strongly advised to avoid asking me what I’m doing today. The answer might shock you into a heart attack, premature labor, stroke, spontaneous chanting, or a burger.


4 thoughts on “I Have Washbored Abs.

  1. irishpirate81

    Your rant could not have been better timed as I, myself, am bored to the point of physical pain. I sectioned off a chunk of my afternoon today to complete two staff yearly performance reviews, which has lulled me into a state of semi-consciousness reminiscent of Jack Nicholson after his frontal lobotomy in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Unlike you, however, my boredom manifests itself in a sort of impish manner. For example: Today, I have not completed any of my actual work but have spent the better part of an hour secretly laughing at my office mate. You see, while she was in the bathroom, I set her phone on “Do Not Disturb.” which sends all calls to voicemail without ringing. She has now been paging people for quite some time and is getting quite irate that they are not calling her back! This amuses me. It also reduces my boredom somewhat as I egg her on. “That is just really rude for someone to ignore your pages… I really wouldn’t stand for it…”


  2. silverfox

    Ah, the whinings of amateurs. Should you care to truly experience terminal ennui, try being among the unemployed where the day’s high point is running the vacuum. Where you turn on Rush Limbaugh just to hear another (nearly) human voice. Where you watch as hours of your life slide onward into oblivion as you endlessly surf the job placement web sites in a vain search for gainful employment.

    Now, lest you should think I am wallowing in self pity, consider that I have been doing this for the past 4 days! That this fiendish punishment should be inflicted upon one as virtuous and normally productive as I is an outrage of the highest order. Perhaps I should contact our Pres Obama directly and request a pardon.

    Truly, should this situation continue much longer, it may become dangerous to simply walk through my lawn as I am likely to tackle the most vulnerable I see and force them to converse with me about ANYTHING! Even the faithful family dog tries to hide from me by crawling under the furniture and stuffing doggy treats into his ears.

    Now that I have vented, do I feel better? Oh HELL no. What idiot thought that becoming another pathetic whiner would actually be of benefit? Must have been a psychologist, or maybe an Occu therapist, or more likely, a “professional” educator.

    The preceding was an exploratory rant and is not intended to reflect the true feelings of any persons real or imagined. Any resemblance to rationality is purely coincidental.


  3. irishpirate81

    Uh, who invited the smart guy? I had to dictionary, like, 5 words from Silver Fox’s rant! And, unlike him, I do not have all afternoon to play around with a thesaurus, as I have a lot of very important work to do today (read: I spent the afternoon putting the anatomy skeleton in the staff bathroom and posed it as “The Thinker” while sitting on the john.)


  4. stumpsmcgee

    StumpsMcGee has finally made it on! But my friends call me Stump, or Stumpy. Who is this guy, “SilverFox”? I do not know him. I do, however, know of a guy who goes by the name of Q-Tip. Could they be one in the same? Well, SilverFox, I just have this to say: seriously?? Only four days and you’re already bored? Huh. =)


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