“Boredom Confessions Confuse”


(September 9, 2019)

boredom confessions

confuse me: you got time

to arrange all this…?*

*(Never have been a fan of “boredom.” I have me – and an entire universe – with which to play. I still do my usual 10-year-old’s routine (when first we got television) of reading between commercials since the stuff between was so lame. I, then, always took the claim of “bored,” as the product of a too-lazy person hunting for an easy culprit on which to blame their own lacks. I still chuckle over my mother’s tinged-with-personal-exasperation comment to a high school trio or counselors and an assistant principal: “J will fight you harder defending – trying to keep, actually – his blames than he will fight you for his credits.” You go, Mom! The one came much harder than the easier: I ‘majored’ in Not Getting Caught!

By now, I figure I am at least a Lieutenant General in Not Getting Caught. I have two minors in Deflecting and Defusing, though the latter works but intermittently.)

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