Boredom As Rite of Passage

What Dr. Ralley is forgetting, of course, is that whether or not you get taken to Alton Towers and fed chocolate on a Good Friday, childhood is and will always be full of the most unbreachable, yawning, demonic chasms of pure boredom – there you are, minding your own business, and your mum says, “Do you want to come to the shops?”. You think, “Why not, it’ll break up the day a bit, and maybe there’s a Curly Wurly in it for me,” and you’re innocently trotting alongside her, you might be holding her hand, when bam. She meets some “friend”; they barely even sodding know each other; they decide to rectify this by talking for 40 minutes, except that, of course, since they hardly know each other, they’re talking rubbish. And that’s before you factor in advert breaks, which are unbearably tedious for children, and baths, whose interest palls after the thorough cleaning of two or three digits.

–Zoe Williams, In Praise of Boredom

This is a fun little essay. Go read it all!

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