The State Of Boredom

This shit is bananas

Once upon a time in a land called the world there was a thing called a pandemic and we all stayed inside. It was a weird weird time and people everywhere suffered greatly. Some people died. Many did not. People were sad and people were happy and some were both. During that time of pandemic pandemonium we purged our houses of things and stuff. We watched television shows we had always meant to watch. We read books. We reread books. We decorated our houses with what we had. We redecorated. We bought things online. We moved furniture. We bought furniture. We bought new houses. We decorated the houses. We did puzzles. We played games. We crafted. We cooked. We baked. We napped. Sidewalk chalk. Bike rides. Long walks. We found joy where we could find joy. We complained and suffered and watched terrible shows. We found ways to vacation, to leave our homes, it was different, and fun, even great sometimes. And when all was said and done, and the pandemic was over, it started again kind of and we kind of did the inside things again. But this time it was less fun. Less exciting, surely. Also some of the people, many of them, got vaccinated and so when they did get the sickness, the anxiety was lessened, the fears different and then the pandemic was again over. Hooray, the people rejoiced.

Except this time as the pandemic “ends” again (lol is that a thing that’s happening?) I have stupid cancer and I am still at home being stupid immunocompromised and I’ve already crafted the crafts and cooked the things and purged the closets and cleaned the junk drawer and watched the shows and even the shows I haven’t watched yet don’t hold my interest and I can’t find a good book they’re all the same and I have no hair left to wash and dry and style and showering isn’t super interesting with no hair either and it’s a new kind of cold to shower with no hair bet no one told you that but it is and I’m just so bored I’m even bored with napping. I’m so bored that I don’t even have things to think about. I’m so bored and then people tell me they don’t want to bore me with their problems when my problems are so much bigger and I’m like, HELLO, bore me friends, I am almost literally without anything to think about tell me all the thinngggggsssssss. Don’t worry that you’re going to bore me, relax, I’m already the boredest.

After years of pandemic life, which followed years of being a stay at home mom, I was just so ready to work outside of my home. To be an active member of the outside workforce. To be useful during the day. To earn money again. To have things to do. To meet new people and learn new things. It had been about 7 years. It felt like a natural sabbatical was coming to an end. I was so excited, I was so ready. I actually felt that, I felt ready. I’d taken the long road with classes, one at a time while Caleb was in preschool, and had finished in February 2020. (You know what happens next). By the fall of 2021, I was talking out loud about going back to work. Soon, after talking about it out loud, I was a substitute preschool teacher in a warm, beautiful place. It was a part time toe in the water kind of job to see if I even liked this new career path. I did like it, I even maybe loved it. I loved the kids. I loved being employed. I was liked and I was seen and I was asked to join the team for real. I deliberated and thought about all the changes that would mean to my current lifestyle of luxurious lunches and walks with the ladies and overall fancy freedoms. What would it mean for my family, whose rhythms were built around the fact that I didn’t have to be at work. Substituting had been the dream...I thought. Work + I do what I want vibes. But then, I loved working. Not so surprising, I guess, since in the olden pre-motherhood days I always loved working and I always worked a lot. And it turns out my family was totally cool and capable. My husband is a dreamy catch who loves and respects me and my career goals and our family and can do school drop off on his way to the office. So it was decided. I was going to work for real. And then, between the time I had accepted an offer and signed my name and my new job was to start, I was told I had the cancer and that I would not be able to work and then had to tell my new boss I had the cancer. WTF. Devastating.

Adam tells me I should take a class. Learn a new skill. I’m not sure I don’t want to do that. Maybe I do. It sounds like a good idea. I should do it.

I’m over the initial devastation of not working. I’m all in on the get the cancer out plan and not being around germy two year olds is part of that plan. My job is waiting for me. I’m still excited about that. Like, super duper excited, I miss being around funny little kids and nice coworkers a lot. But in the mean time I’m so fucking bored I can't even. Like, I can not even. Like, can not even I am so bored.