Have you ever had a "Boring Day"? And I don't mean a day where you are bored. I have those all the time, but they are not "Boring Days". No, my definition of a "Boring Day" is when your boredom hits rock bottom, and you look up and think, "I should do something." And then you do.

But on a "Boring Day" the things you do are always kind of strange and off kilter. Like, on a normal bored day, you would just get off your butt and go plant flowers, or go out to a movie, or rent a movie if you're poor, stuff like that. Walk your dog a few times more than usual. Blah blah blah.

But on a "Boring Day" you might walk over to a park and start examining all the stuff that people throw on the ground(I found a visor, a crayon, and a cassette player clip once. All in the same day. Also one of the best sunsets ever. Fascinating. And this was a tiny park. Once at a large park in the city I found a strange blue buckle and believe to this day it's some sort of magical talisman dropped off from another dimension. Anyway...).

Today was a "Boring Day" for me. Although it started with laundry (Of course, laundry can drive some into a "Boring Day", but I usually find it very exciting. Protect the socks from the abyss. Save the world from color fade.) Three weeks worth of miscellaneous and some jeans. Hours of bliss where I could convince myself that anime was just a way to pass the time while I was busy doing real work.

But this excitement tapered off. I blame this entirely on the circadian rhythm of mine which causes me to wake up every morning at 7 am, even when I don't have to work(has anyone else ever had this? The inability to sleep in even on a perfectly good long weekend off from work? I miss high school, when I could sleep for twelve hours and still catch a nap in math...). So by around 11 I had unfortunately even balled the socks (no casualties this time. Aha! Take that laundry monster).

On to the "Boring Day" bit. Today my adventure was a trip to the store. Not exciting you say, very ho hum. Ah you would say that! But it was very exciting, because of course I could not take a car! No, not on a "Boring Day". I walked to the store, which is at least a whole mile away.

Still not on the edge of your seat? Well, I can't imagine why. This is about the ultimate in excitement on a "Boring Day", taking a walk you don't actually need to take, with money in your pocket. Because of course when you don't need to, you can actually see some of the interesting things that go on.

And sometimes you can find hidden treasure... Yes, indeed. On a walk to the store. I kid you not. Prepare for edge marks on the seat of your pants.

It's amazing how interesting a yard sale becomes when you are numb with boredom. People selling things they don't want. Bliss. So you have to stop at all the ubiquitous dumps that line the street on any day when rain hasn't forced them in(if the clever pilers haven't erected a tent or a tarp or something equally ingenuous), and spy out all the shiny, silly baubles.

I know I am not the only one this happens to. Men may not have this problem. I really don't know. I never understood them anyway. But anyone who has ever been in a pixie stick sort of place knows the allure of shiny objects, I think.

So I come upon a yard sale, innocently lured in by the sparkle of sunlight off an old hubcap. And there are the self same dirty old boxes covered in dust and smelling of old woman that you see at all yard sales. The jewelry that no one ever wanted, and probably got free with some purchase or as a christmas gift from a distant relative.

Now occasionally there is a bit of junk that calls to you. Something which carries in it's moth ridden soul the key to your current whim. This need for completely useless things is most strong on a "Boring Day"(or in a shoe store. Scary places. I don't even like shoes, I swear).

And today this marvelous piece of knickknackery was a bright green rabbits foot, with a bit of old dirt caked on, and a brass handle which looks like it was once painted gold. I hold it, and I just feel at one with the universe. Om is small and fluffy and a horribly tacky color.

But the silly proprietor of this junk heap has left, without so much as leaving a price tag on my treasure. Very rude. I think about stealing it, because it fits so snugly in my hand, and I already feel like I've owned it forever(Didn't I have a rabbits foot like it once? Same dirt spot? I know I did. They probably stole it from me...). But ultimately I can't. It would ruin the moment, if I were to walk away with it.

So I resolve to leave some money. How much are rabbits feet worth? A dollar? Two? But that's probably new I think.

How much at a yard sale. Fifty cents? A dollar? Are they cheap or do they expect gold for their hoards? What, do they want blood? It's just a rabbits foot for God's sake!

So I look around for a few minutes. Maybe it had a tag and it fell off. But I can't remember where I got it now. Next to the broken champagne glasses? The doll without the eye? Darn it. This is too complicated.

I spot a price tag. Aha! Some clue as to what these people are trying to get away with. It's one of the horrid necklaces, thankfully in a plastic bag where I don't have to touch it. This is going for fifty cents.

Well, if this junk is fifty cents, my treasure must be at least a dollar. Okay, I'm going to leave a dollar.

But I don't want to leave a dollar! I could spend it on so many other things. This rabbits foot is not worth a dollar.

Okay, I'll leave fifty cents.

No no no. The necklace is fifty cents. This rabbits foot is at least worth seventy five.

Okay, seventy five then.

So I reach in my pocket, and just as I'm counting out three quarters, someone comes out from behind a particularly large pile. I startle, and try to look innocent. I never thought of stealing it. No. Innocent me.

"How much for this" Holding up the rabbits foot, quarters in my other hand. He's going to want five. I should have run when I had the chance.

"That?"

Nod.

"Dunno. A quarter?"

My heart thuds. What?

"No not a quarter."

I let go of my held breath.

"A dime. But you know what they say, "Not very lucky for the rabbit, huh?" He chuckles. I seeth.

I search my pocket for a dime. They are very small. My cheeks are all red, from presuming. Of course a rabbits foot isn't worth much. Do they even make them any more?

This is taking too long. I almost give him the quarter, just to get out of there. But then I find it, put it in his hand, thank him.

And all the way home I think, "Ah. Yes. That was good. I never wanted to pay seventy five cents, good thing he came along." So now I have to brag to all of you about what I got away with. Aren't I good. Aha!

And that is a "Boring Day".





Mel"..."anie