My friend Beth really likes the Bored Drawer (so gratifying to have a friend who’s not bored by hearing about the Bored Drawer), so I thought I’d write about it today, even though I find I’ve already written about it, maybe even more than once, but I’ll only link to one of them. (WordPress tells me I’ve written 707 posts, so unless your blog is like Facebook, with daily life status updates, I suppose you’re bound to re-plow old ground, as it were. And daily life status updates aren’t really my thing; if they were, they would be even more boring than the Bored Drawer.)
I had, and still have, a horror of being bored – I guess being bored is the INTJ equivalent of being depressed (INTJ, in shorthand Jung, stands for a person who inhabits a sort of conceptual organized interior space where feelings get wrapped up in thoughts). And I realized when I was little that there were times when I couldn’t imagine being bored because there were so many things I wanted to do, and other times where I didn’t feel like doing anything, and sat in my room over the garage (my friend Tina once told me this was very bad feng shui on my parents’ part) staring at the wall.
So on those good days I decided, in my organized way, to write down all the things I felt like doing on little pieces of paper and put them in a sweet secret little drawer in my desk. I still remember some of those things, especially the little clubs I started, with a membership of one: a bike-riding club, a swing-set club. There were levels: once you completed the requirements of a level you got, for example, a Johnny-Jump-Up flower, progressing on to roses at the very top. Lonely little clubs, except for the astounding day when Tina and I discovered we both had these clubs, and joined each others’.
Tina’s was much more interesting. Her father had set up his old World War II Cavalry saddle on a chain between two trees, and her levels involved doing all kinds of crazy things on this saddle – swinging wildly back and forth, twirling around, etc. I don’t think we ever fell off, oddly.
Anway, just writing about the Bored Drawer, as the stolen Google image implies, brings up all kinds of ideas. Which, after 707 posts when, in your INTJ way you’ve determined to keep this up every day, you need.