Technologic boredom

« It’s not so bad at the end », I said. 

 The new law just entered into force. “Mobile phones are going to be locked into one single SIM card”. No more free sex with multiple networks. We have to choose one and that’s all. For life. Like those stupid humans who, thousands of years ago, pretended to accept the unacceptable: sleeping with one single woman or man, for their entire life. That is why infidelity turned out to be the most popular disease and killed them all because nobody was able to find a cure. Of course nobody was able to find a cure. Nobody wanted to find a cure, it would have been illogical! Would you find a cure to a disease that actually takes you away from boredom? Away from doing always the same stuff with the same person every single day of your life? No, you would not. 

 The teenaged phone beside me kept on speaking for 01:03:57. I know it because I had set the stopwatch. I had to distract myself. I wanted to start playing “galaxy balls” but I had removed it from the applications folder three days before. I wanted to make a call, but I had lost my SIM card two days before and it hadn’t been replaced yet. I wanted to send an MMS, but then I realized that according to the law I had been thrown in a dark drawer; therefore there was nothing to take a picture of, apart from the blackness around. Well, whatever, I will send it anyway. Shit, I had no number to send it to: SIM card took all with her. So I didn’t do any of the things I had thought of doing and I set the stopwatch instead. How long will it take to get a new SIM card? Maybe a day. Maybe an hour. I am expecting a new one any minute. They come and go these bitches. They are all the same nowadays. They say they want to explore stuff. One minute they are gone, the minute after they are back. It’s such a predictable world. 

 I still remember the day I lost SIM card number-one. I wanted to show her the outside world, so I let her out and died for sometime. When I finally came back to life I realized she was gone and SIM card number-two made her appearance. Looking exactly the same. Accomplishing exactly the same functions. They were perfectly replaceable.. What a comforting truth to discover! So I did not question the reason why my previous SIM card never came back to me. Infidelity? Kidnapping? Death? Immaterial to me. Who cared! She was gone. Fact. I had a replacement soon enough. Fact. Looking exactly the same. Fact. Who cared about the rest? Freedom is not such a bad thing after all. Exploring multiple networks had probably become her new reality. Was it funny? Was it less boring? Funny how, in the exact moment she ran away from boredom, I ran into it, at least for a while. Your freedom is my freedom, they say. Bullshit. The new law just entered into force. Where will she go? Circumstances will force her to accept the assigned network and phone. Was it amusing now? Take that bitch! Two days ago I lost SIM card number-two and now I am dead once more till she’ll be replaced. I look around. I switch off the stopwatch and take a picture of the blackness. Give me a break, what a relief.

Lydia and a water closet

Something I wrote to keep my fingers and my imagination busy

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Lydia is my neighbour. Sometimes I go downstairs to ask her for a bit of sugar because for some reason I keep forgetting to buy some at the small supermarket round the corner. I enter the place thinking "buy sugar, buy sugar", but then the colours and the smells and my hunger distract me from that and I only remember when I'm watching TV in my bath robe.

She always welcomes me with a blush and a flicker of her eyelashes, which I find cute.

Yesterday it was her who came up to ask me for a bottle opener. She was wearing a black dress, makeup and high heels. It made me jealous of something, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. I gave it to her and we smalltalked for a split second. The weather is nice. Yes, it was warm today finally. That is a nice dress. Thank you very much, I gotta go.

I went back to my sofa and threw the remote to the wall.

Every monday, wednesday and friday, at exactly four o-clock p.m., the sound of a violin comes through the ventilation hole in my WC. Last week I installed a small table in there, and now I sit on the toilet and read a book and have a coffee while listening to it. I find my WC a little bit depressing, so I went to the supermarket this morning and bought three cans of paint (green, white and blue) and forgot to buy sugar.

Going to the toilet now is like going to the toilet when camping in Ireland.

Lydia likes it, I showed it to her when she came to return the bottle opener. How do you like my WC? It's very nice, it was a good idea. Thank you. You're welcome. How was dinner last night? Very well, I had fun. I'm glad to hear that. I have to go. Have a nice day. You too.

I'm still jealous, but the blush and the flicker were there.

I have no sugar and it's monday. And it's five to four p.m. I decide to go ask Lydia for some to put in my coffee, so I change into not-a-bath-robe and go downstairs. If I'm quick, I won't miss the violin. I knock on her door and she takes ages to answer. I check my watch, it's two to four p.m. Lydia opens the door and she's holding a violin and a bow. I gape at her. She blushes. Instead of asking for sugar, I ask her out. She says yes.

I am sitting on my toilet drinking a coffee with no sugar listening to a violin through the ventilation hole in the WC.

Event

THE DAY BEFORE THE EVENT

"Hey, did you here about the eh.."

- "Yeah, it sounded pretty good. Are you going there?"

"Not sure. It depends on who else is going there. Will you be going?"

- "Of course I'll be going! Everyone is going. You should come, too!"

This must have been event invitation #976 in his life. The first one was when his best friend turned three years old and threw a party in his parents' garden. Event invitations kept following throughout his life. The problem was that once he had attended an event, he could never remember them later on. Perhaps the day after, he would remember the conversations he had with a certain person, but he would already have forgotten the name. Maybe he remembered he had been dancing to some music, but he would never be able to tell which song because he'd be too focused on his own dancing moves.

"Yeah, not sure if I'll be going though" he replied.

- "Why not?"

"Dunno, man. If everyone is going I don't really see the point."

- "But you just said you wanted it to depend on who else is going?"

"Yeah, because, you know. When everyone is going to be there, it will be, you know, a bit..."

Of course he had no idea what he was talking about. He did not have a reason to go, neither did he have a reason to go.

The strange thing was, though, that the more he talked this kind of nonsense, the more the people around him perceived him as interesting. So when he ended the conversation with "Nah, well, maybe I'll let you know later then", he was certain that his conversation partner would become intrigued by him so another invitation would follow.

THE DAY AFTER THE EVENT

- "Hey, did you enjoy yourself yesterday?" he was asked

"Yeah, what about you?"

- "Yeah man, it was great! I mean, everyone was there!"

"Yeah I guess that's why you must have missed me then."

- "Oh sorry dude. Too many people, too many drinks. But why don't you come along to the thing that's going on next Friday?"

At this point he realised that this was invitation #977. Only three more to go until he could not take this any longer. He gave an intense look as his conversation partner and yelled in his face: "No!"

Writing exercise: Boredom

It's 06:37.
Again.

The empty space surrounding the spaceshift is as black as yesterday.
It's been 1 year, 3 months and 23 days since I left Thauria, the planet where I'm from and to where I had returned only 2 years, 9 months and 11 days prior to my departure.
I asked for a crew, but the Interplanetary Travelling and Goods Carrying Company - the company I work for - said that we are in a recession and they had had to cut costs by flying less people and to improve benefit flying more cargo. It never fails to amaze me how, according to the ITGCC, we are always in recession.
Just to pass the time I go check the goods I'm carrying this time and I get a feeling of déjà-vu. I think I did the same thing last week, but it can be as well last year, as there is no way of differenciating the days when flying in space.

Nails.
Canned food. This time is some kind of meat and casserole.
Men's left boots.
Coffee jars.
Teddy bears.

I don't know how many times I've transported the same cargo.

The on-board computer, a state-of-the-art Pilot-Spaceship-Relations-Manager 200X-D, informs me that there will be no hot water in the next 2 days, 13 hours and 41 minutes because of a mechanical failure in the water-heater device.
I get my toolbox and go check, after all, it will be 5 months and 15 days before we approximate the next Interplanetary Space Station and in this region of space you can only receive 33 TV channels.
Kate informs me that the estimate of my repairing the water-heater device will take 2 hours and 53 minutes and that it will reduce the damage in about -1 day and 4 hours. I stop to think and come to the conclusion that extending the period of non-hot-waterness to almost 3 days and 18 hours is compensated by the almost 3 hours that I would spend trying to repair it. Kate is how I call the Pilot-Spaceship-Relations-Manager 200X-D.

By the time I'm finished with the water-heater device, Kate has received a Very Important Message.
I press the read button and the blinking red light goes off. Kate starts reciting the message.

International Space Station 487AF to Spaceship Pilot 09356837-16

John, we are sorry to inform you that we have suffered heavy damage in our Arrivals Deck.
Therefore, your Spaceship will not be able to stop here. I repeat. Will NOT be able to stop.
We are currently under attack by the Origan Rebel Forces.
We recommend a detour to the International Space Station 488AF.

We are sorry for the inconveniences.
Have a nice day.

I ask Kate to make a report about how long would it take that detour.

8 months, 9 days and 17 hours.

I ask Kate to make a report about the weapons that the ship is equipped with.

1 Big Laser Gun.
4 Small Laser Rapid Fire Turrets.
3 Grappling Hooks.
2385 Kitchen Knifes. Cargo.
9 Ship-to-Ship Missile Launchers.
8 Missiles.

I ask Kate to make a report about the attacking forces in the International Space Station 487AF.

1 Space Freighter.
3 Fighter-Carriers.
Estimate of 735 fighters.
Estimate of 18.344 soldiers.

I decide that trying to repel the attack to the International Space Station 487AF - chances of survival: 3.4% - is better than to take an 8 months detour.
I give Kate the order to remain in the current course and to load the weapons.

I feel a new sensation. Kate informs me that it is Excitement.

F5

Writing exercise: write about a boredom

Tick. Tick. Tick. Marie was pressing the F5 key. Refresh. Tick. Refresh. Tick. All in all she was refreshing three webpages at once: her work email, private email, and her facebook page. Three more hours and she could go home, having done absolutely nothing. Marie took her glasses off and cleaned them with her shirt. The glasses were not dirty, and after she cleaned them, they were not cleaner. A glance through the window: a view on the parking exit of the neighbouring office. The cars always went out with the same schedule. It was 14h30. The woman with the pink car must have finished her shift. At 14h35, her car would be out. The car with the creepy stickers would oddly follow her at 14h40. Tick. F5, Refresh. Ted has updated his facebook status. "Please copy and paste this in your status if you know someone who has hearing problems. I know people who have hearing problems and I hope that one day, we will find a cure. 93% of my contacts will not copy this." Ted was the third person to make this status change in the last two hours. Marie had already updated her profile today, "had a panini for lunch". What the hell, she would update it twice. A glance through the window. 14h35! The pink car got out of the parking lot and resolutedly turned right. Copy, paste, and comment to Ted. "See? I copied and pasted it - who's not in your 93% now?" Another glance through the window. The car with the creepy stickers got out, a bit earlier than usual. He seemed to hesitate, before turning left. Why did he hesitate? He always turned left. F5. Marie sighted. 2h50 minutes before the end of work.