By Annette Dashofy
Depending on what time of day you’re reading this, I’m either on my way to Baltimore or just about to head out the door. As I’m writing, however, it’s Tuesday evening. And I’m almost ready.
I’ve been buzzing around all day trying to remember what I’ve forgotten. I always forget SOMETHING. Usually, it’s something minor. Usually.
As I’ve been struggling to get everything done that needs to be done, I keep remembering something that someone said to me recently. They mentioned that they were bored.
Bored? What’s that?
I can’t remember the last time I was bored. My to-do list prevents even the hint of boredom. I wish I had time to be bored, but I’d only use that time to catch up on my writing. Or reading. Even when our electricity was out for three days thanks to Hurricane Ike, I never ran out of stuff to do. I couldn’t work on my computer, but I could jot down plot notes. I couldn’t run the vacuum, but I could dust (I LOVE Swiffers!). And, of course, I read. It was bliss.
I suppose there may be a case to be made that I overload my plate because I suffer a fear of boredom.
I made a point to not over schedule my time at Bouchercon so I could stay open to spontaneous invitations and whims of fancy. But I have no fear of being bored.
So, I’m curious. Do you get bored? If so, please explain to me how that works. Of course, Joyce and I are on the road, leaving you all to talk amongst yourselves. But I’ll check in once I…well…check in.
Look out, Baltimore! Here we come!