I haven’t figured out what has me bored with my job…well more than the usual. I take that back. I am not only bored with my job, but I am bored with my life. Boredom, is that what happened when you suddenly realize that, well, you are turning into your mother? Or Lynnette Scavio from Desperate Housewives?
Whatever it is, it is making me wish I had a more meaningful life. Yes, I love being a mom (well…sometimes, I don’t) and I have a wonderful husband (well, wonderful is probably an overstatment– he is like a child, but with a job), a highly entertaining mother and siblings (dysfunctional is more like it), and a few close friends (who I should call more often), but when did my life become so uninspiring? The only person I would probably (with emphasis) inspire is an old woman in a nursing home with dementia or probably one of my deceased grandmothers. I am so tired of my boring, uninteresting, tedious, dull, dreary, mind-numbing, tiresome, lackluster, unexciting, monotonous, wearisome, humdrum and uninspiring life (I ran out of synonyms for boring and these are the only ones Word suggested) that is has come down to defining my boredom and taking pictures of my messy desk.
I guess I will be off looking for some inspiration. If you have any, please lend it my way. In the meantime, I hope your desk isn’t as messy as mine. I will, however, not take this to heart. After all, Albert Einstein’s desk was messier.