Bored

Do you ever just get bored with life? It isn't that I don't have things to do. I do. I have a crap ton of things to do. And it isn't that I don't like my life or my job or my family or my friends. I like all of the above.

But I feel, . . . oh, what is the word . . . . Restless. I feel restless. Like I am waiting for something to happen, but I don't know what it is, and I'm kind of tired of waiting on it. Does that make sense at all?

So I find myself sitting aimlessly playing solitaire, or facebook stalking, or blogging about inane things. Or I find myself driving and so lost in my own thoughts that I pass my turnoff on the interstate. Or I switch the radio station over and over and over and over. Or I go into the kitchen and open the pantry, and stare at the shelves, and then sigh and close the door, because nothing in there intrigues or interests me.

Where is my zeal? Where is my zest? Where is my sense of humor? Aargh!!!

I need a project or a purpose or a shopping spree.

All that to say, "I Am BORED!"