I Should Tell You Something: My Life Is Actually Really Boring

Despite what everyone seems to think, and despite the image I desperately try to uphold on Teh Internets (because who doesn’t?) my life is actually pretty boring.


Yes. Boring.


You see, on this little island paradise there is not so much to do. There are no bars (not even one where you can sip a cocktail out of a fresh coconut under a straw umbrella). There are no clubs. Officially, there is no alcohol (which would make your life instantaneously less boring of course). There are shops, but they sell only the necessities and horribly ugly clothing so that thing called ‘funshopping’ is also not an option. There’s no cinema. There’s no bookstore for fucks’ sake.


Sometimes there is not even internet. That’s when things get really boring.

Boring (or more like, lazy)
Boring (or more like, lazy)

So what do I DO all day? Diving, writing, reading and staring at the ocean.  Talk to people. Cuddle with my boyfriend. Work too, of course. Watching movies in bed and playing with the cat. Nothing that you would brag about to your colleagues after the weekend. That crazy party where everyone got wasted and slept with everyone else? Not here.


The most interesting part of my life is my work.


This is awesome, because that’s where I, like pretty much everyone else, spend the most time, but I wonder how many people can say the same. I don’t need to drag myself to my workday so I can go off and do something fun with my hard-earned money. I don’t work for the weekend.


A Lovely Routine


This is good, because we don’t have a weekend either. Every day is the same. Wake up too early. Chill. Start work at 08.00. Go for lunch in the same restaurant and eat the same food as yesterday. Finish work at 18.00, or 20.00. Go for dinner in one of the four restaurants on the beach and have the same food you’ve been eating for the past nine months. Watch an episode of Archer or Adventure Time and fall asleep at 22.00. Wake up. Repeat. Every. Single. Day.


Pretty dull, huh?


In a world that’s already so full with insecurities this routine gives me a lot of comfort. The fact that I don’t have to think about what I should have for lunch makes up a lot of space in my head to think about things like what the fuck do I WANT with my life? (This, for now, as it turns out).


The fact that you can’t really spend any money here makes the number on my bank account (which is awfully close to zero) somewhat less terrifying.


The fact that there’s not really anywhere to go makes me appreciate my surroundings, even though I spend 95% of my time in the same tiny area.


That nothing really happens here makes it a bit hard to talk to people at home sometimes. A Skype call pretty much goes like this.


Friend: Hi, how are you?


Me: Fine!


Friend: So what have you been up to?


Me: Oh, you know, just the same old regular stuff.

Did a dive this morning, it was nice. Nothing special.  Oh yeah. I found a squished bug under my boob and woke up with my face full of blood because I scratched a mosquito bite.


Friend: Eww. Any plans for tonight?


Me: Nope. I think I’m going to have dinner in Zero Café (my friend has no idea what I’m talking about and thinks this is something special worth mentioning, but it’s not).


*awkward silence*


Friend: Oh. Err. Well. We were at this party yesterday so I’m terribly hung over and then today I have to ride across town for this conference, you see, and I’m really not feeling up to it but then today is Friday so we’re probably gonna have some after-work drinks……..


In case you were wondering why I don’t blog about my insane adventures in the tropics, or when I don’t have so many crazy stories to share, this is why. Nothing is really happening here, and I love it. My boring life is already good enough, so I don’t need all these distractions.



1 thought on “I Should Tell You Something: My Life Is Actually Really Boring”

  1. I can totally see your point in this post. Some friends and I went to Bimini Bahamas back in June and while a week of diving there was great, there was nothing to do on the island…NOTHING! A week of nothing to do is nice, 9 months of nothing to do is not!

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