TB (tired, bored)

So, I returned back to St A after three days of driving across the UK. St A to Cardiff to Bristol to Cardiff to Oxford to St A, a total of 1150 miles. Not bad at all, as driving is one of the things I enjoy doing most, although this experience has verified that I am not cut out to be a truck driver - too much of a good thing. Plus, crossing the Midlands is so utterly boring that would justify having an autopilot. But there you have it, and you can read all about it in my memoirs, in the chapter entitled "George's tale (or there and back again)".

Problem is: I'm tired and bored, bored and tired, bired or tored. Coming back to this bubble of idyllic tranquillity that St A is (for those of you unfamiliar with the place, it can only be compared to a padded cell - with rain) has just reminded me how boring it is. It's so.... boring. So boring I can't even find another word for "boring". So boring that things stop being enjoyable anymore. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy isn't funny anymore. Southpark isn't funny anymore. People jumping off moving vehicles and braking all the bones in their bodies (plus a few more that don't belong to them) isn't funny anymore. Driving isn't that enjoyable around these parts. Taking photographs becomes a burden. Shooting seagulls doesn't seem like a good idea. I'll spare you at this point, but you get the idea.

I was down in Oxford and found this great little shop which sells miniature Japanese meditation gardens, bonsai trees and crystal growing kits (this is interesting, actually. You get this kit, with chemicals and, er, stuff, and you grow your own crystal. If you're a 3-year-old like me mentally, it's kinda cool), along with plasma balls, Galileo thermometers and Chinese tea pots. The idea of having a 20cmx10cm meditation garden (complete with rocks, a small pond and a thingy to make patterns) seemed to me to be by far the most interesting thing I could be doing in St A. Or even staring at a Feng-Shui indoor fountain. Or compiling a 10,000-piece puzzle of a white wall, for that matter.

In other news, itelli has (fortunately only partly and very vaguely) revealed my plan to be the King of Fife (echo...), but I'll talk about this in the next post. Sort of.

 

Oh, the piece and tranquillity of a padded cell, a miniature meditation garden and a Feng-Shui fountain...