Waiting is the Worst

There are days like today.  I have only one thing happening, and only one thing.  So what should I do with the rest of my time? I wait for that one thing to happen.  I could be productive and find something to do: go on a walk, do homework, or go to the gym. No. These will not do.  

I sat on my butt and stared at the wall until that hour rolls around when I could finally do what I set out to do.  Unsure of what to do until that time, I spend several minutes, ok more like a half hour, looking around the room.

Nope. Still Nothing

Shower? Cleanliness is always a good thing.  Maybe...  Yes! Relaxing, and then I can think of something to do while I'm relaxing. Good plan. 

No. Showers are evil.

It starts out OK.

Something happened.  

What? 

Please. No! 

It can't be this! Anything but this!!!

The shampoo started slipping from my hair.

The result: pain, and me screaming like a little girl.

I got out of the shower looking I was back in kindergarten and had pink eye. 

And there it stayed for the next few hours. I couldn't go anywhere.  People would think I  was contagious.  Or the following happens:

So I remained indoors. Waiting for the horrible faux-pink eye to wear off. 

Finally, once the temporary pink eye has gone away.  And I've regained some amount of self confidence, boredom sets in again.  What to do?

Games! Yes. I like games. Games are fun.

No. Games are evil.

I threw on your favorite game, Spyro.  I've beaten that game like 50 times, and know it like the back of my hand. There I was thinking I'd be as happy as a clam biding my time until the moment arrives when my day could begin.

And for some stupid reason the most simple of tasks become too difficult to complete.  The worlds were taking 50 times longer than they should.  I was needlessly wasting precious lives. I couldn't glide.  I kept falling into water, watching Spyro drown as I was helpless to save him.

The game knew I was getting frustrated and did everything in its power to make me more and more angry.  Like that terrible, horrible, mean dog from duck hunt.

Enraged by the games lack of respect for my patience and efforts, I threw the controller on the floor, turned off the game, and remained in your seat. 

Wishing I could get rid of that terrible, horrible, mean dog.  Then duck hunt wouldn't be as near as frustrating.

Stupid game.  I didn't want to play it anyways.  

Perhaps the TV.  

No. TV is evil.

There's nothing on but Cops and some other horrible reality show that rots the brain.  Even if I left it on, my brain would be screaming so loud from the pain of its quick decay that I'd switch it off anyways.

Screaming brains hurt.  That's the cause of headaches you know.

So I was back to where I started, starting at things.  And the clock won't move.  What else is there to do??

Nothing.  After 3 attempts at things, all options were exhausted.  My creative juices weren't flowing so I couldn't think of anything else to blog about.  So, here was me a few hours ago.  

At least, on the inside.  Desperately grasping for other things to do or even something to write. But after several half completed posts and then several more deleted ones and many more random topics.  I have completed a post and filled up a few hours more before my one thing for today.  I still have a few more hours to go.  But I log off different.  


I am victorious!! Like that satisfied feeling in duck hunt, when the dog finally shows that you have gotten some of the birds.