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Why is it that having nothing to do is so much more painful that being too busy? Is it the Puritan in me, trying to prove that I deserve to get into heaven because I work hard? Or is it the guilt, the feeling that if I'm getting paid, I should probably be doing something productive?

Anyway. Going back to ignoring my job for a while.

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I'm here to guarantee that if you were sitting on a porchswing in the middle of summer with a beer/iced tea beside you and a good book in hand, you wouldn't be upset with having nothing to do.

It's totally a context thing. I know this because I'm often bored at work, too. And I wish I were at home and less bored with nothing to do. But it doesn't seem to work out that way.

That sounds like a wonderful place to be. I think I'll pretend to be there for a while.

It's probably a combination of those things plus a big dollop of boredom and senioritis sprinkled on top.

Have you tried using that time writing? Even if it's just five minutes at a time, or writing whatever random garbage comes out while you're being harangued by coworkers?

When I get into one of those funks, it's a Herculean effort to yank myself out. But today is better. I made a list of work and non-work things to do, so I'm making progress!

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