The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity.
Next time you're sitting at a stop light, notice the cars around you. How many different colors do you see?
I know what I see. A sea of white, black, silver, gray, beige. An occasional red. Maybe a blue one here and there. Used to be black, white, brown, gray, and silver weren't even colors. The color wheel I remember had blue, yellow, red, green, purple, orange.
Are our cars a sign of how boring we've become? Sort of like how boring this post is?
Often when my husband and I are driving somewhere, he'll ask what I think of some car he sees on the road. I don't know why he does this, because cars really don't do a lot for me. (Air conditioning, heat, radio, starts--works for me. I can't tell the difference between a Cadillac and a Datsun. And a truck is a truck.)
I never display much enthusiasm in my reply, hoping he'll discuss something more interesting to me. Surely he knows what those things might be.
His next line? "What do you think of that new Z2000375A?"
"Coupe or sedan?" I reply, and in my mind bang my head against the dashboard.
So goes our exciting rides in the car. Sort of like when he's flipping channels between American Chopper, some war show on the history channel, and some obscure football game between Nimrod College and Shinola State. He'll make a comment and I'll look up from my book and nod my head. I think he truly believes I'm following the changing of the channels every 30 seconds. That I enjoy watching snippets of all those shows, too.
Okay, so I was talking about boring colors and boring posts.
I have six drafts of posts sitting in my Post queue. I have topics on minivans, children's play, my cat coming to the lake for the first time, night owls, creativity, jobs. Each of those has notes on it with a worthwhile list of ideas to make a fine essay. Do I have interest in writing any of them this week? No.
Perhaps it is a reflection of my personality at the moment. Perhaps it is the time of year and everything outside is brown, so I feel brown, too. Perhaps, perhaps.
I think I'll go get in my silver car and go to the grocery store. Nothing mundane and boring about that. I'll even, like normal, forget where I parked and search for my car in the sea of boring color in the lot.
Oh, wait. Sometimes there is a rainbow. The produce section. Surely I can find some real color there. I'm off!