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Sunday, February 27, 2011

Freshman Year Revisited: Languor



Boredom inspires words. I sit here in an empty dorm going completely insane. My only company is some music and a cell phone that occasionally vibrates when some friend remembers my existence. Ennui seems to rule my life. Overdramatic? Perhaps. Without drama, life would be horribly dull - just ask Austen. Elizabeth Bennett’s life would have been simple. She would have met Mr. Darcy fallen in love in due time and then been happily married. As it was, Miss Elizabeth Bennett had a mother that reveled in intrigue and drama. There was never a moment where Mrs. Bennett was not in the midst of some excitement. If it had not been for her mother’s drama queen abilities, Elizabeth would never have discovered that Mr. Darcy could separate and then bring lovers back together. Also, we would never have discovered his more admirable qualities. As it is, I still think he is a complete snob with a gloomy outlook on life.

Not only am I bored, but I am also held captive within my very own room by the very fact that there is water falling from the sky. I do think that it is a very bad day for the sky to choose to such a behavior. After all, you would think that the clouds would know that this girl has a bad case of cabin fever. Obviously, they don’t. You know what I think? I think that the world has ceased to revolve around me. For the longest time, I believed that if I snapped the world would crumble at my fingertips - to quote a good friend of mine, “Reality continues to ruin my life” (Calvin & Hobbes). My world has been successfully ruined. Thank you, world. I greatly appreciate this loss of childhood fantasy.

Wonderful. Oh, yes. I am bored. My tinker bell night light might as well stop shining. If it did, I wouldn’t clap my hands. Peter Pan can do it by himself. I will sit here with my arms crossed. It rained on my head. My flowers died. A cold found it amusing to torture me with a stuffed nose and multiple sneezes. I do believe that sneezes are a cold’s way of laughing at you. The best thing is that the cold uses you to create its laughter of a sneeze. SPLEN-did.

My homework sits undone and sprawled across the floor next to me. For all I care at this moment, it can just lay there. I will have no mercy upon it. It almost begs me to complete it. No way. It’s Friday. Any conscientious college student would be capable of ignoring the antagonizing whine of their homework until Sunday night. Unfortunately, mine has a pretty high pitched squeal that cannot help but irritate me. Like any good mother to their whinny child, I am considering giving in. Yet, I cannot do that. To give in would be to condone that type of behavior. Therefore, my homework will continue undone until she can stop bothering me.

When this type of ennui sets in, possibilities are endless. One could read a book, watch a movie, take a walk, talk on the phone to some long ignored friend, take a luxurious nap, come up with mathematical theories, solve something that doesn’t need solving such as Global Warming, invent a car powered by air, or sit and do absolutely nothing. Oh, the possibilities are endless. Sadly, I feel none of these. After much thought, I have decided that I want wings. My concentration is focused on my shoulder blades in hopes of growing my own set of wings. My forehead is scrunched with such deep focus that I will have horrible forehead wrinkles by the time my wings do emerge. I think my shoulder blades are tingling. I promise they are! When I shut my eyes, I can almost feel my wings slowly growing. They are very fast growing. My wings are oddly shaped and a strange color. The color is so odd that one cannot even see it. If I was as fantastic as the king in The Emperor’s New Clothes, I would convince the entire population of the world that I truly do have wings. Of course, it might prove detrimental if I was required to prove my ability of flight.

Have I thoroughly bored you with my ramblings? I do hope so because then I will not be so very alone! We can share the ennui together. Of course, I am no longer bored because I have just spent the better half of an hour writing this thoroughly ridiculous bunch of paragraphs. You know, I hope you did not just read all of this in hopes of finding something useful to do because obviously I have no good suggestions whatsoever. I have decided that ennui is a choice. I keep telling myself that I will endeavor to never complain of boredom and that I will try not to be bored. This is turning out to be a very difficult challenge. How could something so simple become so very challenging? I don’t know. Ask my planner. It will blankly stare at you. This expression of my planner’s terrifies me. That’s it! I think I am going to grab a sharpie and write nonsense all over my planner.