Some days, I am one of the most optimistic people you could hope to meet. Monday was one of those days, although I was suffering a little from sleep deprivation. Maybe suffering isn't quite the word. Really I was floating from a cocktail of sex, sleep deprivation and sunshine. Today I feel much gloomier, maybe it's the weather. Perhaps I ought to emigrate to Canada or something, at least their weather is interesting. Today the skies are white, no rain, no sun, little wind, no fluffy clouds, just a uniform blanket of dreary castover. It's not even excitingly cold.
Nine to five jobs in front of computers surrounded by bored workmates. What if this goes on for years? The thought makes me shudder. I know that this is exactly what has already happened to most of the people I work with. What were they hoping to do with their lives when they started, I wonder? Maybe these jobs are not a disappointment to them; steady, decently paid, handy if you want to settle down and have a high boredom threshold I imagine.
I can well see why some people have an unremittingly pessimistic outlook on life. Pain and suffering and death are all depressing enough, but it's the prospect of a lifetime's worth of boredom that really gets me. Is the prettiness of trees and skies and people compensation enough, I wonder?
I keep hoping that the aliens will come out of hiding during my lifetime. I wonder what it will take. I vaguely assume that they are waiting for us to figure something out so that they don't have to feel guilty about pointing it out to us when it turns out we can't handle it. Quite likely it is something to do with the nature of time or space. It is also possible, of course, that they are keeping us in ignorance merely for their own entertainment or out of scientific curiosity. And needless to say it's also possible that there aren't any aliens for a hundred thousand light years of here.