The Blessing of Being Boring

Rumination Station

I’ve become boring in my old age of 28 years.  I spent last night, Saturday evening, doing paperwork from my job till almost midnight, then dozing on the couch reading St. Augustine.  My previous Saturday night was spent similarly, and the next one will probably be about the same.  I don’t even bother to check what shows or concerts are in town anymore, and I don’t know what movies are playing.  I’ve weeded excitement almost completely out of my weekly routine.

But let me qualify that.  When I say my life is boring, I mean it would probably seem like that to other people.  I never get bored.  Mostly, I lament that there’s not enough time to do everything I want.  I have unread books on the shelf just waiting to be cracked open, and long-untouched books that would be worth re-reading.  I have all kinds of ideas in my…

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