Since I've always thought that boredom was due to a failure of imagination, I've never let myself get bored.
That, of course, is a lie. I've never let myself wallow in boredom; that much is true. I won't whine and complain and ask Mom when school is going to start. And more to the point, I'll never admit to being bored.
But today was long and uneventful, and if I were prone to boredom, this would have been the day for it. I'd planned to sleep late, and I trumped myself by sleeping about an hour later than the latest I ever sleep. It's not like when I was a teenager and could routinely sleep until noon or later on the weekend. Now 9:30 am is late for me, so sleeping until 10:30 seems borderline decadent.
Even sleeping that late leaves a lot of the rest of the day to fill. I'd hoped to get some work done today, when it just might be quiet enough to stay on task. I never really got started, though, so keeping my focus was never a problem. I just didn't have it.