Boredom is sitting thinking about going to bed but noticing the cuckoo clock is at two minutes to midnight and waiting for the bird to perform an exhaustive repertoir of chirps.

Boredom is further defined by my realisation that I once wound the clock round to the right time and it played the chirps consecutively, then winding it round a full twelve hours to count the chirps while photographing the clock during the chirpathon in case someone on the internet disputes my claim of what I just did for three minutes of my life.



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