Lost in Pflugerville: Boredom

When I was kid, my favourite saying was “I’m bored” and my Mother would always reply, “there is no such thing as I’m bored”. Unfortunately it didn’t stop me from saying it. it’s a sad thing to say that even as child, my boredom threshold was very very low.In class I remember the Janet and John reading books we were subjected to as if it was today. They were PAINFUL and BORING.

The next page would probably of said something like “Yes John, I see the dog” “Janet, do you see the dog?”. I never finished the Janet and John series because if I made a mistake, my teacher would make me go right back to page one. After a while, I wouldn’t even be looking at the page but checking out what was going on elsewhere. There was always something more interesting going on in class.

The first book I actually read was "Oliver" by Charles Dickens. Our headmaster was reading it out aloud because yet again his wife, our teacher, was out sick. He was reading a couple of pages a day and that was too slow for me, so I went to the school library and borrowed a copy. Everyone was amazed because no-one knew I could actually read. I was almost 11 by then. I didn't learn my alphabet until I had my kids, I am sad to say, because it was too boring to learn (at least that's my excuse)!

until I had my kids, I am sad to say, because it was too boring to learn (at least that's my excuse)!

In other classes I would get into trouble because I would lie my head on the desk and pretend to fall to sleep. This usually happened if the teacher had to explained for the umpteenth time what she was trying get through to some numskulls brain. Unfortunately, I took it too far one day and my teacher took exception to it and dragged me from my desk, in the process hitting me on the head (most likely in error) but I told my Mother who in turn went berserk ( I would have done as well).

My memory of school was that it was very boring and daydreaming my life away was much more preferable.I must have been a teacher’s nightmare of a pupil, to be honest. Not a troublemaker but as one Headmaster put it “ a plodder’. Its all in there but the brakes are slightly on.

I think most of my childhood and teenage years were spend in a dream. I would take my sisters to the cinema on Saturdays and we would have to walk the 3 miles from Ashford to our house. As we walked, I would imagine I was acting out the film, especially the musicals, they were my favourites. My sister, Debra and I would dance and sing along the street as we went, happy in that pretend world which was so much better than real life.

In my early teens I remember, lying on my bed, with my eyes closed, convinced this wasn’t my real life and that I was actually lying in a coma. My real life would be so more dramatic and interesting than this. Unfortunately, I think that trait has continued into my adult life which is why boredom is a constant companion.When my Mum complained “ there is no such thing as boredom” what she should have said was ‘ use your imagination and realise your dreams.” Of course she had no idea I was sucking on other people’s dreams to live my life because I didn’t have confidence in my own dreams. She didn‘t have a problem in that area or if she did, she didn‘t show it. Unfortunately, my Dad and his Mum did. My Nan was always living for the day, all her family would live in one big house (My Dad, his sister and their families), of course that never happened and my Dad has a similar dream of all 4 of his girls, living close by, while he is the doting granddad. Now he an alcoholic, clinging to his dream.Yesterday I was pretty pathetic in my feeling sorry for myself. Have been for a few days because I have been working on my painting website and no-one in the art world even knows it exists. That because I make no effort to get my work notice and I don’t really work on my art to get notice. I am still in that make believe world from my childhood that if only that one right person saw my work, I would be famous! Yeah right, like that is going to happen.

When I was at college I would gripe about the ‘favoured’ students and sure enough they went places, were liked by all the tutors and other students. What I didn’t appreciate at the time, was how hard they worked to get to that place. They would enter competitions and get their work in exhibitions I would gripe, how do they do that, why aren't we being entered into competition, being shown in galleries, me and my friend Anna were world champions at that. I didn’t have a clue about open competitions and how to approach a gallery but then I didn’t really ask anyone how they did it. I just took it for granted they must be better than me. I didn't realise they were putting themselves forward, not the college. In my 2^nd yr my work almost ground to a halt and at the beginning of my 3^rd yr, my tutors were so concerned they actually had a confab with me, expressing their concern. I was flattered but I still wasn’t seeing the bigger picture.

And really that has been my life so far, I haven’t gotten to the bigger picture. The weird thing is, I see the same thing happening to my 2 younger kids. My eldest has always been top of her class, even now at college, she strives to do as best she can whilst partying the night away (or so it seems to an outsider). My other 2 see this and are convinced she is so much better than them but in reality she is working her butt off, socially and academically. However, there is hope, I have been emphasising how much work Elisabeth does and see the results she is achieving. Alan and Emily aren't there yet but they are working harder and seeing better results. Hopefully, some seeds of success have been sown.

So what am I am going to do about this situation? Probably nothing. I will make all the usual excuses, sit on my backside and gripe, become bored again and again. However, I might just enter into a local competition this weekend if I can muster up the energy.