I'm bored. And boring.

And I don't do anything interesting. Ever.

Nugget and I recently talked about this. You go through college in this blinding haze of activity and people can't believe the amount of things you can actually squeeze into your day. You barely sleep and you never mind. You do homework when you have an occasional five minutes to spare (that you really don't have to spare) but really you don't do it because you don't have time and your average individual of average intelligence should figure out by now how to cruise through college with good grades without doing homework.

Then you graduate. You take on a couple crazy adventures in crazy places that you've never been. You do some jobs at places that seem like god's gift to young journalists at the time but you really just do some stuff for them for a little while then they get some new cheap youngster to fill the spot. You meet some people that amaze you at the time (but you're going to forget them later). You get out of your comfort zone, you grow up a little, you become comfortable with being alone, you feel independent even though you're mostly just scared and lonely the whole time, it's a happy sobfest, etc.

Then you get a job. Like a real job. And it's pretty cool. But the 40-hour work week brings about an interesting quandary: What the hell do you do the entire rest of the time? The first couple months are awesome. You're settling into your apartment, you're enjoying having nights and weekends off, you're watching movies, you're reconnecting with friends, you're cooking new meals. Then you figure out how to cook pretty much everything you want to. You're friends are back in your life, but still in their own weekly grooves. And your nights and weekends drag on.

You realize, your life boils down to this: You need a fricking hobby.