“I haven’t been dominated by boredom for years ... I think I miss it”
When was the last time you were completely engulfed by boredom? I’m talking about that stagnant, allconsuming type of boredom where you find yourself staring at the wall for so long that it eventually goes blurry? That’s what I mean here, not just that feeling of being lost for a bit when your current binge series finishes up on the same day that Instagram is down for a bit.
I haven’t been dominated by boredom for years and, to be honest, I think I miss it. I remember approaching a parent with the classic, “I’m bored” only to have them list a series of jobs like this: “The car could do with a wash, there are leaves in the pool that need to be cleaned out, how about going through your clothes and throwing out things you don’t wear anymore?” You were bored, but laying on your bed with your legs up the wall waiting for them to go numb was still better than anything on that list.
It was only through hitting the deep lows of school holiday, rock-bottom boredom that some of my most creative ideas sprung forth. One of my most innovative hit me in the Year 10 September holidays. I thought of a great, low-pressure way to talk to a boy I liked. I thought I’d ring his home and pretend to be a telemarketer, working for a sports drink company, seeking the opinions of 15-year-old boys on new flavours. The first question I’d written out on my notebook was, “Are there any teenage boys in the home now who would be available to answer a few survey questions about sports drinks?” Genius.
This still rates as one of my best ideas ever I’d say, it’s up there with cooking haloumi in the jaffle maker.
Do try it out.
I don’t think I ever got the guts to actually call his family home, but writing out the call centre script and then telling my friends about my brilliant plan was enough of a rush for me, and it filled up the time between Huey’s Cooking Adventures and dinner. Reflecting back I’m not sure what outcome I was hoping for here. I guess after speaking with said boy, and charming him in my role as a sports drink telemarketer, he’d say something like, “You sound both hot and funny, and I’m impressed with how much you know about my main interest, rugby, can we meet up and snog please?”
Thinking things through to their most likely conclusions wasn’t, and still isn’t, my strong point.
Before the hormonal teen years, my boredom-busting schemes were more about getting an adrenaline rush. This led me to drag my trampoline next to the pool, wet it with a hose, then use that as a launch pad to surf into the pool on my boogie board. Yes, it’s a miracle I have any teeth at all isn’t it? Things like this would be easier if Mum was out and Dad was mowing or otherwise occupied. I
needed him distracted while I pulled the hose down to the pool area. “What are you doing with the hose?” he’d ask. “Nothing,” I’d reply. If I kept walking with pace and didn’t make eye contact, I’d get away with it nine times out of 10.
Dads don’t have time to intervene in your schemes, they’ve got to find somewhere to hide five catchers full of lawn clippings before Mum’s friend from work comes over for a barbecue. With Dad distracted, I’d place my boogie board on the wet trampoline, then run at it as fast as my little legs could go on a wet trampoline, then I’d surf off the edge and drop down into the pool. Yes, I had just watched a surf video at Richard Mcmahon’s house that featured Kelly Slater and decided it was simply a matter of weeks before I’d turn pro as a surfer too.
Those of you with any experience with this sort of thing would be aware that, yes, upon hitting the pool, the board would fly up under my chin and bang my jaw shut, leaving my teeth jingly and my head seeing stars. I wasn’t bored anymore though was I? Mission accomplished.