This Wretched Boredom

Right now I am entirely bored. With Morty away for a few days and everything booked up until needed, I am sitting at home with my skull peeling away in utter lethargy. I can not look at another Lonely Planet guide, I can not research any more hostels, I can not go over my first-aid kit and provisions any more.

My stomach is still wounded from an over-eager exercise routine, so I can't even fill my time with health improvement activities. I've slept far too much and my fingers hurt from playing the guitar in an effort to ward off the sickness of nervousness one feels before making such an epic journey. The real annoyance is that whilst these next few days are devoid of amusement, the remaining days prior to departure are going to be so full of stimulant, that I may vomit from invigorating over-activity. A buck's party, a wedding, a last minute pre-flight scramble and the inevitable fear; all contributing to a ghastly unease, an impetus to my nervousness, paired with this wretched boredom, this wretched, stinging boredom. Please, for the sake of my sanity, please allow these days to roll on in a more timely fashion.