my friends love it when i go away.
for when i go away i incessantly write emails.
because when i go away i’m invariably bored out of my little witless mind.
like now. in a hotel in london. 2:30 a.m.
probably won’t get tired until 9 a.m. went for a long walk already. bathed twice. sent emails. ate. etc. and i still have 6 1/2 hours to fill.i could do so much. i could brush up on my spanish.
i could stand on my head. i could project myself at will through the mirror and see what the inside of a black hole actually looks like. and so on.
but i’m just bored and lazy and so i’ll sit here and write emails and whatnot until my abused wrist tendons go on strike.
when i’m home i’m a lazy emailer. but put me in a hotel room for 10 hours with nothing to do and i’m the reigning king of emailers. the annoying reigning king of emailers, cos my friends will send me an innocuous ‘how are you?’ sort of email and i’ll respond with page after page of self-involved boredom inspired drivel.
‘how am i? i’m bored, that’s how….’ and so on.
see, i’ve run out of people to write to, so now i’m sharing my boredom with you.
and then i feel guilty for all of the people who would love to have lots of unstructured time in a hotel room. i should use this time productively, right? instead of just sitting around and whining about being bored, right?
ok, time to go and find constructive things to do in a hotel room.
maybe i’ll bathe again. and then see what’s on mtv.
ugh. see? put me in a hotel room and i become an uninspired slug.
moby