BB Grey–musings

What bores me? Watching paint dry—yep, the ultimate snooze-fest. It’s not just the glacial pace; it’s being stuck, twiddling my thumbs, while that wet bum holds my whole day hostage. Sometimes everything’s on ice, waiting for it to “dry,” and other times I’m fighting the urge to poke it like a moron—just to see if it’s done—leaving my fingerprints as a neon sign screaming, “This idiot couldn’t wait!”

Real talk: waiting is boredom’s heavyweight champ. Used to feel like time was flipping me off; now it’s a sneaky breather, letting me slack under the excuse of “Well, I’d be grinding if I wasn’t trapped here.” Bore-freakin’-ring! Especially at the doctor’s, flipping through crusty 2012 mags for someone else, wondering why I’m on time when they never are.

Paint drying’s my hell—when I’ve done all I can, and all that’s left is waiting, half-assing a book or scribbling nonsense, ‘cause my brain’s still glued to that next thing. Funny how boredom’s a cruel little dictator, huh?

Wait—hold up, the nurse just hollered our name! Guess I’m saved from dying of boredom—time to sprint before they change their minds and leave me stewing with the outdated Highlights magazine!