LIFE IS SO BORING

     Life is so boring sometimes. The same damn thing, day in and day out. Mind numbingly dull. Tedious. Mundane. Nothing interesting ever happens ~ it’s always the same dreary slog. Which is very depressing. Boring and depressing. 

     So what do you do? You go to the doctor. She asks what’s wrong, and you’re like, “Thanks for listening to the setup, doc.” You tell her directly, you’re bored and depressed. She asks if any of your friends or family have noticed any change in you. You tell her you have no friends and hate your family. So she gives you pills. You take them every day, and after a few weeks you feel slightly better. You still don't have friends, or a likable family, but neither seem to matter so much anymore. However, you’re still bored. And now, you’re putting on weight.

     So, you go to your doctor. Doctor tells you to go on a diet. Now, you’re eating salads. But you’re still bored because there’s nothing exciting about lettuce. Lettuce is little more than green, chewy water. Not even the cool kind, like the green, chewy water in Olympic swimming pools. Just pieces. Stupid little pieces. The lettuce not only bores the hell out of you, it makes you feel tired. Listless. You’re finding out that green, chewy water doesn’t deliver that needed much of an energy boost.

     

     So, you tell your doctor. Doctor says she knows just the thing for you ~ external stimulation. You think about it for a moment. Sure, she might be a little older than you, but why not give it a try? You ask her if it’s covered by your insurance. She says she doesn’t understand. But you do. That’s not really her field of expertise. Who really understands how insurance works? Not even the president. You figure, the hell with it. She can send a bill, and you’ll file for a reimbursement later. So, you start to undress. She calmly asks you what you’re doing. 

     You tell her. “Preparing for your external stimulation.”

     She says, “I think you may have misunderstood me.”

     Not the first time a woman’s ever told you that while you’re unzipping. She clarifies. “I meant, you should go out. Try new things. Go to a museum. Or the zoo.”

     “The zoo?”

     “Yes. Bring a friend.”

     “I don’t have friends.”

     “Make some.”

     So, the next morning, you take your pills. Squeeze into your newly tight clothes. Put some green, chewy water in a Zip-lock bag for lunch, and go to the zoo. You get there, and what do you see? Animals in cages. Looking as bored as you. Walking around and eating grass ~ which is just another type of green, chewy water. The zoo, it turns out, is even more depressing. Then you remember the doctor told you to make friends, so you talk to a couple people as they walk past. Ask them if they’d like to hang out later. Maybe have a couple drinks. But after a while, their teachers get freaked out by your overtures, and rush all the kids back to the school buses.

     So, now you’re banned from the zoo for life. Then the realization hits you ~ life. What’s that, another 50 years, give or take? At this very moment, there are animals in the zoo that will outlive your lifetime ban. Which means, decades and decades of tortoises telling the same story about you getting kicked out. Over and over again. And laughing. You wonder if it’s worth the risk to sneak back inside and confront the tortoises. If not now, maybe in fifteen years, or so, when things have cooled down. You decide against it. Why do you care what these particular tortoises think about you? It’s not like their information is going to get very far. So, you step back and reflect on it all. You wonder if anyone is really having fun, or if they’re all lying about it. Just to screw with you. What if everyone in the entire world is just like you ~ trying anything, but hopelessly failing, all in desperate attempts to keep them from being bored out of their frigging minds? And if that’s true, how many other stories do the tortoises have?

     So, you go to the doctor. You did what she said, but nothing worked. Except now, you know the tortoises are laughing at you, and you’re fairly certain the world is conspiring to keep you from ever being happy. She smiles and gives you more pills. The cycle continues. Wake up. Pills. Tight clothes. Lettuce. More pills. More sleep. 

     Nothing interesting ever happens.