I am so bored. Bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored. Bored.
I am knitting a boring sweater. I am out of Doctor Who episodes, unless I want to watch the ones made in the 1960s, 1970s, or heck, even the 1980s (I don't--those Doctors aren't David Tennant or Matt Smith or Christopher Eccleston. Mostly, it's just that they aren't David Tennant). It is dark at five every night. I wake up in the dark, I go to work in the dark, I drive home in the dark, and it is still dark when I go to sleep. There is no sun. It's a myth.
I'm out of books to read.
There is snow.
Really, what am I supposed to tell you about my life? How can I blog when I am so boring, I put myself to sleep! I am so bored every day, that I decided to take a break from knitting and wind yarn--I wound 3,995 yards of wool (and alpaca and silk) into center-pull balls. Now I have piles of yarn, a sore elbow, and boredom to show for my efforts.
Do any of you have lives? Do you go places? If so, please tell me about it in the comments so I can live vicariously through you. That beats watching reruns any day.