Stuck with myself all the live long day regardless of whatever/whoever else might be around I naturally get more bored with myself than with anyone else on the planet. Note though that boredom with others is a tense affair: 5 minutes of chatter about your wretched family vacation, your dentistry concerns, your brilliant Costco bargain hunting escapades, and my adrenalin is surging. “Ooooooo how can I live in a universe where I have to be subjected to this sort of thing. Escape by any means….” Boredom with myself, however, is supersubdued and at the worst merely mildly, nearly sweetly, depressoid. Why so different? I think it’s that the energy balance sheets differ. Your boring anecdotes are not in truth so bad and surely better than being stuck in my own usual, but your pleasure so transcending my minor inconvenience leads me to think I’m engaged in a bad deal. Therefore adrenaline. Conceding utterly to my own boringness, sinking into it, is by contrast soothing. It locks down the energy loop completely into a perfect circuit. No cheating: the best of bad deals.