This is a variation on the last entry's theme. I wrote this in a letter to somebody and I felt that it was articulated so well, I thought I'd include it here. Note to anyone reading...I'm NOT in this mood as of this posting. I just wanted to preserve this bit of mental meandering because it NAILED the malaise precisely--------
"I was paralyzed by boredom yesterday. I thought of reasons to go downtown. None surfaced. I went to the local supermarket to choose some booze. Found nothing. Too much effort to read, socialize, or even stay awake. Some people say that if you're BORED, then you're BORING. I believe there are days when all the connections and currents are just dormant. Everything you thought meant something just seems so tired and unappealing. I seem to be receiving increased signs that I should return to Bonnie Scotland. Then I think of the travel. The jet-lag. The bullshit. The uncertainty of finding the magic still BEING there for me. I ask myself if I'm becoming my father: More set in my ways, more insular...Is THIS what happens when you "grow up"? You discover that This Is All That There Is and you might as well just mark off time with pints and calendar pages? So WHAT IS "growing up"? Refusing so change your thought-process? Not WORRYING about this? Not CARING?"