I have always suffered from the opposite of boredom. Sit me in an empty room, and after I have admired the emptiness, the imperfection of the walls and the silence for a while, I will start to read the labels inside my clothes. After that I will explore my memories, replay the cinema in side my head and then hold a conversation with myself, or even with someone else. This is a silent conversation, of course, I come from a time when only lunatics and drunks spoke out loud to themselves. Nowadays you also have to include people with Bluetooth earpieces.
I don’t think I’m unique in this, I’m sure many people reading this will also do the same. Well, maybe the voices aren’t quite normal, but so far they haven’t made me do anything bad and as I’m typing this in my dining room rather than a secure unit it’s safe to say I am normal enough to get away with it.
When I think about it I don’t remember being bored for at least 40 years, and that was only while I was at work. I nurtured the ability to think about other things whilst doing repetitive jobs, and I was never bored again.
This is one of the reasons I don’t listen to much music. I’ve never really listened to the radio or tapes in the car (which dates me, doesn’t it?) because I’ve normally had plenty to occupy my mind (including driving!). When I was gardening I bought a cheap MP3 player and tried listening to that while I was doing things like cutting long hedges but after the first couple of days I never used it. Music distracts me from thinking, and I’m quite happy just thinking.
That’s probably why I’ve been happy in lockdown. It’s suited me, to be honest.
So, the big question of the day – what goes on inside your head? And are you prepared to admit it?
As a supplementary question – who is humming the Peter Sarstedt song as they read this?