Every once in a while I get bored. Actually it's more than once in a while. I'm bored alot. There’s a very real possibility that I’m an excitement junkie. That I just can't "be." That I find myself feeling very low when I'm not very high. Yeah, it's possible Dr. Phil. Why don't you go put a spit shine on that head of yours, ok?

I have to admit, I love having something to look forward to, to count the days or “the sleeps” until an anticipated event. I like to have a new toy to play with, a challenge, hell, some email in my in-box is all it takes sometimes. And I've had to consider recently that it's entirely possible that my inability to deal with the mundane might be responsible for some of the problems in my past relationships.

I'm one of those people who change for change sake. I move furniture around, change artwork, buy new plates. My cats lick their fur a different way occasionally so that they don' t end up at the no kill shelter, swapped for some abandoned poodle. I was once married (yeah. it's true. weird, huh?) to a man who had fear of change. Now where is that e-harmony compatibility profile when you need it? He has had the same job since high school, lives in his first home, drives a 1990 car, has never replaced his deceased dog or his ex-wife.

I mean, who's crazier in that scenario? Doesn't a little furniture rearrangement way too often sound perfectly sane right about now? Doesn't it? Yeah? No?

My second marriage (can you fucking belief it? I know!) ended mainly because my husband checked out early, but there were some problems before that and yep. You guessed it. The problems were related to my lack of tolerance for all things boring.

He was too quiet - even our fights were non-fights. They involved the silent treatment which for me is the Silent Killer. Right up there with grudge holding. Besides, I always felt like I was annoying him by continuing to occupy space in the universe. There was a lot of sighing going on. A lot of way too quiet dinners. I remember looking over at other tables in the restaurant, seeing a couple that were leaning towards each other, holding hands, talking in whispers. I remember thinking how bad I wanted to know their secrets, what they were saying - the words to the spell they were under. (I found out, by the way, and it's remarkably easy - a candle, some funny powder and a cast iron pot filled with smelly things. Simmer for one hour while visualizing nice long conversations with a guy you once knew.)

But it's not that I can't do the everyday with someone. I can. I just prefer someone who does the everyday like I do. Who makes the most of life - grabs life by the neck and fucking squeezes the last drop of fun out of it until it goes limp and lifeless. Because you do have to make your own fun, you know. I hate to have to be the one to break it to you - it's not going to be handed to you by the guy who brings your breakfast up to your room on the big tray. You have to learn to recognize it, even when it's buried under a hell of alot of ho humness. Yep, I hate to say it, because I really really hate these kind of cutesy Hallmarky inspirational sayings, but you are responsible for your own happiness. And your own boredom.

In the immortal words of Bunny, overheard as I walked by her office one day a few years ago,

That admission, my friends is the first step towards change.

God Bless
May the Force by with you.
Amen.

-LM

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