Today is July 3, 2017. I am alive and well.

I once had a lover tell me we couldn’t be in a committed relationship unless we spent time being bored together. The relationship ended a few months later. I was not interested in being bored.

Webster’s defines the word bore as “to make weary and restless by being uninteresting.” To be a bore is to be a “tiresome person.” Why would I want to place myself in a situation that is boring? Would that be like wiping the same table off ten times because I remain convinced there are germs? Why would I intentionally want to be a bore? Do I want to talk someones ear off because I find what I have to say is important even though the listener can’t keep her eyes from wandering from my face to scoping out the cake at the coffee house, and then excusing herself to go to the restroom after she had just come back from the restroom 20 minutes ago? No. I would rather wash dishes than intentionally bore someone.

What doesn’t bore me may bore another. I have spent years eating the same thing for breakfast every morning. A half a cup of dry oatmeal along with a third a cup of dry oat bran. Pour water into the bowl, pop it in the microwave for 2 and 1/2 minutes and wa-la, cooked oats. I really like this ritual. Because it is a ritual and because I love oats, it doesn’t get boring.

I use to watch hours of TV a day with Guy. It wasn’t so much the shows that interested me as it was the fact that he interested me. I spent hours on the couch holding hands with him. There was no other place I wanted to be. Not even in a cafe in Paris.

I will admit that after Guy left, TV became uninteresting to me. There are only three shows I watch, The Voice, Shark Tank, and 60 minutes.

I read a lot. I read a lot as a kid. My mother called me boring because of this. I’d rather be reading a book than playing slip and slide in the front yard beneath the sprinklers. My mom belittling me did not keep me from reading Jack the Giant Killer and Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators.

There is one thing that bores me. Brushing my teeth. A necessary evil that lasts three minutes. Twice a day.

I don’t know what to suggest to people that tell me they’re bored and complain about it. Maybe take a cold shower. Go to the Humane Society and walk dogs. Write a letter to someone you love. Go to the library and read magazines, even the ones about celebrities, or especially the ones about celebrities.

Go jump in the lake and commune with the fish. Jump in the pool and pretend you’re a mermaid. Jump out a plane and seek solace with birds.

I need to go brush my teeth. Thank you for reading.


2 thoughts on “Today is July 3, 2017. I am alive and well.

  1. Patricia

    Kristina, thank you for your self-revelatory post. Your posts always seem to be fresh and frank. I have a fear of boring people I care about. Maybe that’s why I chatter more than I need to in friendships. However, I forget that when I’m bored it means I’m lonely for my true Self. I think this is true for others, too.



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