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There are certain days in the life of this particular person that seem unnaturally boring. This person almost feels as though these days were made by the god of boredom, if such a hideous thing even exists. This person thinks it should, because, who else would come up with that kind of days? This day, especially, has been extremely boring thus far. Nothing out of the ordinary (or in, for that matter) has happened, and it's not five o'clock yet. This person is lying on the couch, doing nothing else but breathing. So the god of boredom isn't really the only one to blame, now, is it? If this person moved and did something to change the events of this day, then something would happen, and this person wouldn't be bored anymore. Unless, of course, this person is the god of boredom. In which case, this person is the only one to blame. When five o'clock finally strikes, the cuckoo bird in the clock starts singing and this person finally gets off the couch. This person yawns and stretches for about a minute before going into the kitchen to put the kettle on. This person waits, patiently, which is a normal state of mind for this person, so it isn't very hard to achieve.