So boring.

Sometimes life is insufferably boring. Despite the entirely random possibility of my existence, despite my astonishing aliveness, I can still be bored.

Boring bits don't always seem to exist for other people, even though they almost definitely do. No one is bored in films or books because they skip the things that would be boring. You never actually see anyone in a TV drama brushing their teeth for exactly two minutes. I find cleaning my teeth boring and yet, often, once I have finished cleaning my teeth I have nothing else to do. At least brushing my teeth gave me something to do.

I often wonder if the celebrities I like to admire have also sat in a doctor's waiting room for 45 minutes, or if they have accidentally stared at their phone for for an entire hour refreshing the timeline every five minutes for one new tweet. And, despite being bored of this process, have managed to stay in the same position for so long their hair from the shower they never got dressed from has now dried into some greasy, knotty mess.

I wonder if other women spend whole boring hours of their life in compromising positions in the bathroom plucking hairs from places they can't even see. Whole hours. At least it makes the time pass. Sometimes time is so excruciatingly boring I want it to pass quickly.

And yet it is a miracle that I can even experience time passing. It is phenomenal that I have the ability or even the desire to brush my teeth and I dismiss it like it is nothing. Time is passing and it can pass as slowly as treacle dripping from a spoon and I am lucky enough to watch it happen.

It is random and wonderful, even, that I can feel boredom. I can feel everything! I can choose to give myself an activity, no matter how mundane, when I decide that time has become uninteresting.

Life is insufferably boring at times. Life is insufferable, even. But how wonderful is that? How bloody wonderful is that?