Boredom-Induced Thinking

When I was a kid, if I ever told my mom I was bored, she'd say, "I can find something for you to do."  That was my cue to go become un-bored or I would be doing some sort of mind-numbing chore like polishing my parents' silver from the 1960s.  I never understood why the silver needed to be polished.  I don't remember anyone ever using it.  In retrospect, I think my mom just held onto the silver so she would have a powerful threat to keep me from saying I was bored.

These days, I have no silver to polish and am opposed to deep cleaning due to....um...religious convictions.  When I'm bored, I simply occupy myself with random thoughts such as these:

• Are my pets sick?  

When I don't have much going on, I obsessively monitor my pets.  I begin to believe that they are acting strangely, when in actuality they just shouldn't be watched so closely.  "Why has Sid (the cat) been lying in that same spot for all this time?  Does he usually do that?  Why does he have that look on his face?  Should I take him to the vet?"  I also begin obsessively monitoring myself and come to the conclusion that I am dying.  But I suppose we're all dying, so that one's no biggie.

•  Would I make a good U.S. President?

Hell, no!  President of the United States has got to be one of the worst jobs in the world.  Give me a managerial position at Taco Bell any day.  You're like America's Mom in that you don't get any credit for your hard work, and everyone blames you for everything.  But I think the worst thing about being President is that you never get to leave work and go home for the day.  Your home is your job, and it's full of your coworkers.  You never have the option of turning off your cell phone and disappearing for awhile.  What a nightmare. 

I would much prefer to be Supreme Dictator of the World.  I would give myself 6 months of vacation per year, live in a secret location and wouldn't even have a cell phone.

•  Even though I've been a vegetarian since '94, if I were hungry enough, would I eat meat?

Answer:  Yes.  Yes, I would.  Next!  (this particular line of questioning never takes up too much time)

• Did I create my evil cat, or was he born that way?

My cat Sid is very cute, on the outside.  He looks like this:

Unfortunately, looks can be deceiving.  On the inside, Sid is more like this:

Sid is the only one of our four pets who we got as a baby, so we can't blame previous owners or a faulty upbringing for his evil tendencies. We can only blame ourselves...OR we can choose to blame demonic possession.  Sid scratches and bites without provocation, yowls all night (I have to pack my ears with silicone), and thinks the world is his litter box.  Even as a kitten, he was like this:

Although I prefer to believe that Sid is simply the proverbial "bad seed," I realize that I do need to take some of the blame for his temperament.  If I had it to do over again, I would not name my kitten after a sadistic, self-mutilating, heroin-addicted murderer.  My bad.

Okay, I'm done talking about boredom.  It's time to watch football.  The best thing about the NFL is that you can sit on your butt for 9 hours, staring at a screen, and truly feel like you're doing something (i.e., "I'm busy!  I'm watching the playoffs!").  What a racket.