Thread: Bored Out of My Mind - the Ramblings of a Cubicle Tenant

Wow, that was amazingly awesome, Amé. Just the right combination of wildly random and simply futuristic.


Now you've inspired me -- just when I was about to go to sleep, too...

Only an hour and fifteen minutes left. I even threw in a few verses. Not as exciting as the last post, but it's Friday and the day hasn't been much of an adventure. As usual, I'll probably add more before I leave to go home.

-------------------------------------------------

Oh the wonders of the internet. As I sit here for the last two hours of my seven-hour work-day, I ponder on all there is to behold within this wide world that is within the realm of pixels and bits. Who am I to be privvy to the mysteries of the world?

How blessed I am to possess the privelige to wander aimlessly through the facets of time, to wade slowly and peacefully across the shores of history! My heart knows no bounds and my lips shall proclaim to the heavens what my mind tries so feebly to express! Sweet elixir, shower me with truth and let me be a beacon on this madly spinning orb, lest we who inhabit this sphere be doomed to an existence within the vacuum of space.

Internet, oh internet, I see you standing there. Your glowing pool of deep blue eyes, your dark-brown regal hair. Comparing you to anything within the world we know, would be for naught, a travesty, a bitter, forlorn show. To try my hand at searching through your sites to find the end would be like trying to make all one's dear and trusted friend.



And tedium sets in, my friend, and how I wish to go, but I am stuck and cannot move, and this you surely know. An hour more and then a half 'till I escape this place, 'till I go home and mom and dad can see my wind-kissed face. I sit and wait, and wait, and wait for my dark phone to ring, wanting badly to log off, avoiding callers' rings. Come four o'clock I'll reach out towards the coat rack, but I know, that then someone will dial me in, and I'll not get to go.

ahahaha

I used to do this same thing at work...the amount of stuff I wrote during those wasted days being a cubicle ornament could fill about 4 JKR size novels.

And the last installment...

-------------------------------

Oh wait, a call! This I can do! I'll set you up and get back to you. Oh wait, my dear, I have no clue, I have no idea what to do. I'll ask her first, she might just know. It's still not working, so off I'll go! A call to mom, who's home and ill. I'm sorry mom, be quick this will. I explain. She gives advice, lovely mother sweet and nice. Aw great, I have to use that one, the old computer, slow and dumb. My eyes go crossed as I sit and wait... Crap, how long's this gonna take?! I wonder how it could be worse, and then I write another verse. Okay, I followed her directions to make the necessary corrections. And now I see, the codes are wrong, it doesn't work. With that, I'm gone. I'll wait 'till Monday... Though I wonder if I might salvage this small blunder. A single notion passing through my thoughts, ideas, something new. Nah, I turned it off just now; it's too much effort, anyhow.

Fifteen minutes 'till I leave. With joy, this verse, may you receive.

More greatness, that second one was downright poetic. Not as good as the first, but great nonetheless.

After staying busy for so long, I have currently almost run out of things to do. I would have said "run out," but I realized that I have three phones sitting next to me that need to be cleaned. I think I may save that for after lunch, though, so that in case I really run out of things to do, I'll have something to keep me occupied for at least twenty minutes or so.

In the wake of this lull before lunch - at which time I must hasten to my savings account and transfer funds to my checking, lest the dreaded penalty grow! - I shall ask myself what I would be doing if I wasn't here.

In reality:

Finishing a book, maybe cooking something, watching some TV, and if I felt so inspired, unfolding my Dance Dance Revolution mat and passing the time with a rousing set of "Love Love Sugar" (an upbeat little ditty sung by spunky Japanese gals and guys), "Only You" (one of the few songs I can currently reliably get an A (or AA*, as I once did) score, with quirky syncopated beats), and "La Senorita" (a spicy Salsa number, sure to get my blood pumping as I wait for the final "Olé!" to pose dramatically).


Outside of the realm of what could actually occur in this reality:

The first words that popped into my head were "Battle the forces of evil!" but that response is so automatic. Sure casting a villainous murderer from the highest tower of the Castle of Galeforceburg is exciting and worty of note and even of a movie contract (if the plot isn't as cliché as they usually are), there must be something else to occupy my busy mind.

Searching for a lost love? Nah.

Making an arduous and adventurous journey across a barren wasteland? No. Through the Still-Able-To-Get-Through-Without-Much-Trouble Forest? That has possibilities However, thinking back to my knowledge of allegory, I'm not entirely certain if a "quest," persay, is what I have in mind.

No goals. Nothing to attain. No final location at which to arrive. Just an adventure with my trusty cadre of courageous and machete-wielding comrades.

Along the way we'll stop and the river and make light conversation with the crocodiles, until their young begin to approach us, curiosity vivid in their bright, moist eyes. At that time, we will take out leave, should the young ones' curiosity be mistaken for our advancement towards dinner. Far be it from me to do such a thing, but tell that to a crocodile. For being as quiet as they are, the are one of nature's poor listeners.

In massive leaps, we shall hurl ourselves across the river onto the bank of the far side, landing unharmed on the leaves and soft dirt. Poor little Arnold had to use the rope vine, though. Pity his man legs have not yet begun to grow. Soon, I keep telling the lad, soon. The hope on his eight year-old face makes the whole job worthwile. If his father was alive, he'd be proud of this young boy who can wield a machete with greater skill than boys five years his senior, and if this were the old days, I'd make him my flag bearer, steering his steed masterfully throughout the great wars.

Once we navigated through the murky swamps, we agreed that it would be prudent to rest and wait until nightfall before we proceeded. I, for one, was excited at the prospect of seeing what the night forest would bring to our eyes. I'd read for years about the thousands of creatures that were yet to be discovered, and I could picture what some of them must be like in my mind's eye.

And a thought came to me. What if there were creatures that could, indeed, read the thoughts of man? It would truly be remarkable! To find something that could very well have been listening to our thoughts throughout this whole expedition... to try and communicate and find out how it felt about my relationship with the gentleman who kindly volunteers to carry my pack... to ask if it was worried about the recent turn of events within the lower atmosphere... The possibilities were endless! I added "find one of these telepathic creatures" to my list of life goals, the list that must be finished before I pass on into the next life. Hopefully that goal will postpone the inevitable until a more convenient date.

do extra work dammit.

I love my new calendar. Balinese are beautiful kitties, though I still am not a huge fan of long-haired cats. It’s far too easy for their fur to mat and the likelihood of hairballs, I imagine, would grow exponentially. I love their eyes, though. That deep blue with just a hint of grey. I wish I had that color eyes… Granted, I also wish I had their pupils with that vertical slit. How awesome would that be?!? Not to mention they can see in the dark, more or less. They get attention when they so desire, and when they want to be alone, they find a way to be alone. Their ways are simple.

Why wasn’t I born a cat? Who cares if I only live some 12-20 years? Even if I had to eat the same food every day for that many years, how would I know the difference? I’d probably have a family that would let me lick the empty tuna can. Having those rare treats would make them more worthwhile, rather than me taking them for granted as I do now.

And bounding! Oh, to hop through the tall grass on the side of a hill, I think, would bring me such joy! You catch a brief glimpse of my graceful figure before I disappear once again, preparing my next bound as you wonder from where I shall emerge. Not to mention, with my fur and overall body design, I wouldn’t really have to worry much about being cold. I could bound in the snow, and when I decided that I wanted to go inside, I’d shake the snow from my fur and demand that I be allowed entrance. If they didn’t let me in, I’d go off and sulk until they did, acting surly for a day or two just to show them my displeasure, and then act as if nothing ever happened.

Why wasn’t I born a cat? I wonder which breed I’ll get to see on my calendar tomorrow. It's no fun to look ahead.