en·nui: ahn WEE –noun - a feeling of utter weariness and discontent resulting from satiety or lack of interest; boredom: The endless lecture produced an unbearable ennui. (Dictionary.com)
I don't know about the discontent part, but I'll go along with lack of interest ... and boredom. Yes, AC is suffering from ennui.
Although it's strange to blog about not wanting to blog, I don't want to. I'm doing it because I can't sleep again and am at a loss because I don't want to read either or watch TV or do anything else that ordinary people might do. I've been that way for a few days now. It's not like me, but it is my present reality.
It's too much effort to blog or do any of the other things that I usually like doing: taking pictures, posting them on Flickr, experimenting with Photoshop. I don't want to exercise or practise choir numbers or read books (I have read three lately) or watch television or write emails. And I can't fiddle because I'm trying to rehabilitate my arthritic fingers, an effort which is not exactly paying off. It's not that I want to not do any of these things;it's simply that I can't be bothered to do any of them if that makes any sense.
We have plans to go to the west coast to visit Althegal and Powerpuff in June. I opened a travel book tonight. Could care less. Am not excited. The trip seems too much bother. Don't even want to go right about now.
Maybe I'm in a holding pattern, waiting for certain shoes to drop. Waiting for spring (it snowed again tonight for crying out loud) and the things that we do when it comes: gardening, cycling, soaking up sunlight and breathing the freshness. Maybe I'm waiting for Smudge to make her grand entry into the world as we know it. Maybe when those changes occur, interest in life will be re-kindled. I hope.
Meanwhile, Ennui is my companion, even though I don't like her very much. I'm tired, but it would be futile to try to sleep just yet (it's only 12:30, you see). It was just a half hour or so ago that I got up after an exasperating attempt and woke Cuppa in the process. She wanted to know what all of the swearing was about. But I was just cussing at my new mistress: Ennui. It's a pretty French name, but she's an ugly, old biddy let me tell ya.