Have you every been really, really bored? So bored that you lie awake at night just trying to come up with things to think about the next day? That's the way the past five days or so have been for me. I thought a few classes I had in high school were incredibly mind-numbing, but those classes were the rough equivalent of a thrill ride at California Adventures compared to my last five days.
My mom had surgery on Monday. Things came out much better for her than we had anticipated, but she's still in the hospital until at least Wednesday. My Aunt Victoria was staying with me because I've been fighting evil respiratory demons since before Christmas and my mom could not rest easily if someone responsible were not taking care of me (cough, cough, Matthew and Kevin, you know who you are and what is your role in all of this).
Then my illness didn't go away as predicted. My dad was either working or at the hospital with my mom, so I had to stay at my Uncle Steve's house, because he is my pediatrician and his wife, my Aunt Heather, is a nurse. Uncle Steve decided I was too sick to use my laptop. Then the cable went out. There I was confined to bed with no company because my uncle thought it would make things worse.
I understand that some people currently inhabiting Earth did not have access to TV with or without cable or satellite, and also did not have the use of electronic technology at some point in their lives. For these people I have much admiration, but that does nothing to make me live the way they did. In their early day, two-pound-four-ouce babies, of which I was one, did not routinely survive. Likewise, I would not survive without modern technology.
While I was lying in bed with nothing but my own thoughts to occupy me, many bizarre thoughta crossed my mind that I will not share at this time because I hope to be permanently released from my loony bin before I turn eighteen, and that ain't gonna happen if I share my idle thoughts. (I'm neither suicidal nor homicidal, incidentally, for any spies who may be lurking.)
In my almost comatose state of boredom I also remembered something about which I have not thought for quite some time. My diving colleagues and I invented a sport(at least I don't know of anyone else who has ever done this, although I haven't conducted an exhaustive search). It is called "Baggage Carousel Surfing." To Baggage Carousel Surf, one must climb onto a moving baggage carousel in an airport and remain in a standing position while the carousel revolves.
At the risk of seeming boastful, I will share that I am quite good at Baggage Carousel Surfing. To evcel at Baggage carousel Surfing, it helps to have very small feet, as the floor of the baggage carousel has moving sections, reminiscent of rhe tectonic plates beneath the Earth's surface, that shift under or over each other. The less space required for a person's feet, the easier it is to avoid getting one's foot or feet caught between the shifting panels.
I might add that the best venue for Baggage Carousel Surfing is a small airport in the sticks (I highly recommend Bakersfield International Airport or whatever it is that the esteemed residents of Bakersfield are presently calling their airport, if it can even be called an airport. Bakersfield in and of itself is a worthy sub-topic under the umbrella of boredom, but it will have to wait for another night, because my computer will eventulally be confiscated tonight) in the middle of the night. I could never Baggage Carousel Surf if my parents were present in an airport where I planned to surf. Sleep-deprived coaches, on the other hand, don't usually supervise their charges nearly so vigilantly. Tired airport personnel are likewise not so likely to have prospective surfers arrested or detained, or even notice that anything is amiss.
I don't wish to be sued, so I cannot recommend that anyone who reads this engage in Baggage Carousel Surfing. Try it stricty at your own risk, and if you have feet anywhere near the size of an aircraft carrier, it won't be easy.
Matt, your idea about driving is brilliant. I wish to make it known that I would like to become the safest driver on the planet at whatever cost I must incur in order to do so. I do not wish to acquire Indy 500-calibre driving skills so that I can tear up the road and evade the law; I wish to drive safely.
Rebecca, it is good to hear from you. I hope you are getting stronger daily.
Hot sauce supporter, I hope you're still reading even though I haven't heard from you lately.