Boredom.

Just as a forewarning, the following is going to be about nothing as my boredom reaches its peak and I am now at that point in which I just start rambling.

I usually don't get bored very easily. I'm accustomed to keeping myself occupied as I'm extremely easily amused and have fun doing the most random things such as watching a movie I've seen a hundred times again or googling things on the internet. When boredom does occur, however, it occurs in four stages.

Stage one: Munchies and Facebook
When the first inkling of boredom arrives it's a feeling of "Hmm... my friends are busy, I have no money to go do anything, I'm still looking for a job, let's go stalk the lives of people who are far more exciting than me on Facebook and Twitter whilst eating chips!" I've decided to add crayon drawings because I'm THAT bored.

This my crayon depiction of me pretending to be surprised that girls I knew in high school are preggars or mothers now, and gorging myself on potato chips. Sorry it's sideways... I'll do better next time.

Oh. P.S. Crayola crayons smell delicious. Seriously. I just spent the last five minutes sniffing crayons... Here's an actual picture of me sniffing crayon fumes. 

It's in black and white because black and white is classy. Oh and they HAVE to be crayola. None of that Rose Art crap. That stuff smells like sadness.

Anyway, where was I....? OH yeah! Stage two.
Stage Two: Crazy Housewife Mode. Upon reaching stage two I start looking around my room thinking... It needs to be cleaner (even though I'm OCD and it's always clean anyway). BUT I get this sudden urge that it's not nearly clean enough! So I start doing unnecessary things like dusting, vacuuming, dishes, cooking, and doing massive loads of laundry and cloroxing everything. (My life was pretty much made complete when we started getting those Clorox wipes. They're the Jesus of cleaning supplies.) Then, as a last resort, I fold blankets and organize my stuffed animals in all the possible ways until satisfied. All while dancing to Fall Out Boy.

SEE I fixed the sideways problem. Now you have to forgive me.

Stage three:  Pure Unadulterated Madness.

So after everything is spotless, my voice is dead from screaming along with boy bands, I'm completely full from eating everything in the cupboard, and I have clicked the refresh button on Facebook too many times that I feel like if it could talk it would yell at me for using it like a truck-stop hooker, I start to pace. Then pacing turns into an angry stomp. And while stomping angrily, I start thinking way too much about life, and what I'm doing with life, and where I'll be in ten years, and all of the things I want to do before I get too old to do them, and pretty soon I'm an emotional and anxiety ridden wreck and end up in the fetal position. Essentially, it looks something like this. 

Stage Four: Spend 2 hours writing a blog about boredom. Also be disgusted at my hideous handwriting. Oh well.