Wednesday.

Tonight I practiced being bored. I don't really know the last time I didn't do anything. After a ten hour work day of being diplomatic, polite, encouraging, stern, and organized, I needed to do nothing. Literally nothing.

You have absolutely no idea how deep the ot do anything work ethic runs in your veins until you try to do nothing. I sat on my balcony and listened to WWOZ do their spring pledge drive. I refused to think about anything, but I kept ticking off a list of things that needed to do. I should call friends I haven't talked to in a while. I should do the dishes. I should pick up my room. I should, I should, I should. Every time I was near to standing up, I wondered how much longer I could sit there.

So I watched the cars going by. And I watched the clouds going by. I listened to the cicadas. I felt the humidity on my skin. I noticed the way the oak trees looked against the night sky, and the way the street like across the street shined just a little like Christmas lights. I looked at the old abandoned hospital that is catty-corner from my house and noticed how even it was beautiful in the witching hour. I imagined myself dancing to the blues and jazz on the radio.

I was truly bored. I haven't been bored in so long. It's a fascinating novelty. I can't say it is a habit I am going to enjoy forever. But tonight it was a choice. It was a lovely choice for a Wednesday.