We humans take our feelings very seriously. How else to explain the theatrical dread most of us have of boredom? After all, who among us hasn’t threatened to die of it at some time or another?
Recently faced with a long trans-Atlantic flight, I naïvely assumed I could trot out an assortment of diversions to beat the tedium of cramped confinement, airplane food and wailing infants.
Shortly after takeoff, I pulled out a stack of magazines and books, feeling impervious to the ennui that would soon overtake my fellow passengers. Dead wrong… NY Times
I have been blessed with the ability to defy boredom. I don’t really experience boredom unless I’m trapped at some intolerable event with absolutely nothing to read or otherwise divert myself — and usually people-watching suffices at such desperate times. I don’t really understand the capacity to be bored…
