The boon of boredom
“Loosen up, Cherry boom boom,” my college friend used to tell me.
Nadine Natiola, who previously worked at a concert and events company, has always been fond of songs. The moniker she gave me was lifted from a line in Lady Gaga’s song, “Nothing Else I Can Say (Eh Eh)”.
For some reason, I’ve always had the reputation of being a workaholic. As a student, I had always been serious with my school requirements. At work, my colleagues know how meticulous and hands-on I can be when checking outputs.
Loosening up was a concept so foreign I didn’t even bother trying it for myself.
I used to measure productivity by the number of tasks I managed to accomplish in a day. Of course, I didn’t know then what I know now — that recreation and rest may just as well be productive activities.
Still, there are days when the feeling of boredom can be crippling. Perhaps I’ve been so used to working nearly 24/7 that days off and early work dismissals render me helpless and demotivated. I don’t know what to do, and if I ever end up doing something to entertain myself, like watching Netflix, I feel remorse as if an hour or two of enjoyment is a grave sin against productivity. Time could have better been spent doing something else, such as cleaning my unit, doing the laundry, and even reading a book, I would always tell myself.
Marathon watching
In the recent weeks, though, I learned to unapologetically embrace the time I spent watching movies and TV series.
Recently, I watched The Lord of the Rings trilogy, the story of which I never fully appreciated. In high school, I tried reading the first book in the series, but I never got past the second page.
Perhaps now that I have grown older and hopefully more mature, I learned to appreciate the beauty of J.R.R. Tolkien’s work, which defined the fantasy and epic literary genre. I adore the depth of the world he built — it’s much more complicated and comprehensive than the Harry Potter storyworld — and the complexity of the characters, particularly of Gollum whose alter-ego Smeagol I particularly am fond of.
I had also watched a few series, such as Argon, a Korean drama that has only eight episodes.
I compare it to HBO’s The Newsroom, a series about broadcast journalism set in the US. When asked, I prefer to describe the 25-episode series as a portrayal of the ideal newsroom.
The strength of Argon, though, lies not in its social commentary or the depiction of investigative newsgathering in South Korea where it is set, but in the realness of how media organizations — which are businesses, too — tend to meddle in the supposedly non-partisan editorial content.
In the series, Argon is the name of the award-winning investigative program that was put in a late-night timeslot and was no longer given as much support by the management, especially in terms of finances, because it aired a corruption story that exposed a relative of the company’s chief executive.
I had hoped it would have a second season, but a quick Google search led me to a news article, about Kim Joo-Hyuk, the lead character of the show, dying in a car accident.
As I tried to watch the last few episodes of Argon on Netflix, I mis-clicked and found myself watching a new Korean series, Life, top-billed by Lee Dong-Wook.
I finished the pilot episode and wasn’t hooked. I thought the producers and writers were trying too hard to make it different from the usual roster of medical dramas that it also delved in crime and mystery.
Still, with the short life of Argon and boredom sneaking in, I gave the second episode a chance. That was when I started liking this series.
Life — I admit, a title too generic — dramatizes the power struggle in hospital operations. The Sangkook University Hospital was acquired by a corporation, which installed as president a non-medical practitioner, Gu Seung-hyo. The ambitious businessman then started initiating changes in the management of the hospital.
One of his first directives was to send emergency medical teams, pediatrics, and obstetrics and gynecology units to rural hospitals in the name of public service. While laudable, these departments are the most crucial units in any hospital. It was later discovered that the President was making this decision because the three aforementioned units have consistently scored losses in terms of profitability.
What I particularly like about this series is how they portray the President as someone not entirely clouded by his desire for power and need for approval. He is weighed down by an internal dilemma — not explicitly shown in the series, so far, but which can easily be inferred — when it comes to leadership. What wins: morality or business?
Had I still been the person I was more than five years ago, the Cherry who wouldn’t find time to enjoy non-consequential things such as watching movies and series, I would have missed on these good things: the beauty of Tolkien’s LOTR, the wisdom of Argon, and the practicality of Life.
Now I understand that boredom can be a friend, if we let it. •
Nadine Natiola, who previously worked at a concert and events company, has always been fond of songs. The moniker she gave me was lifted from a line in Lady Gaga’s song, “Nothing Else I Can Say (Eh Eh)”.
For some reason, I’ve always had the reputation of being a workaholic. As a student, I had always been serious with my school requirements. At work, my colleagues know how meticulous and hands-on I can be when checking outputs.
Loosening up was a concept so foreign I didn’t even bother trying it for myself.
I used to measure productivity by the number of tasks I managed to accomplish in a day. Of course, I didn’t know then what I know now — that recreation and rest may just as well be productive activities.
Still, there are days when the feeling of boredom can be crippling. Perhaps I’ve been so used to working nearly 24/7 that days off and early work dismissals render me helpless and demotivated. I don’t know what to do, and if I ever end up doing something to entertain myself, like watching Netflix, I feel remorse as if an hour or two of enjoyment is a grave sin against productivity. Time could have better been spent doing something else, such as cleaning my unit, doing the laundry, and even reading a book, I would always tell myself.
Marathon watching
In the recent weeks, though, I learned to unapologetically embrace the time I spent watching movies and TV series.
Recently, I watched The Lord of the Rings trilogy, the story of which I never fully appreciated. In high school, I tried reading the first book in the series, but I never got past the second page.
Perhaps now that I have grown older and hopefully more mature, I learned to appreciate the beauty of J.R.R. Tolkien’s work, which defined the fantasy and epic literary genre. I adore the depth of the world he built — it’s much more complicated and comprehensive than the Harry Potter storyworld — and the complexity of the characters, particularly of Gollum whose alter-ego Smeagol I particularly am fond of.
I had also watched a few series, such as Argon, a Korean drama that has only eight episodes.
I compare it to HBO’s The Newsroom, a series about broadcast journalism set in the US. When asked, I prefer to describe the 25-episode series as a portrayal of the ideal newsroom.
The strength of Argon, though, lies not in its social commentary or the depiction of investigative newsgathering in South Korea where it is set, but in the realness of how media organizations — which are businesses, too — tend to meddle in the supposedly non-partisan editorial content.
In the series, Argon is the name of the award-winning investigative program that was put in a late-night timeslot and was no longer given as much support by the management, especially in terms of finances, because it aired a corruption story that exposed a relative of the company’s chief executive.
I had hoped it would have a second season, but a quick Google search led me to a news article, about Kim Joo-Hyuk, the lead character of the show, dying in a car accident.
As I tried to watch the last few episodes of Argon on Netflix, I mis-clicked and found myself watching a new Korean series, Life, top-billed by Lee Dong-Wook.
I finished the pilot episode and wasn’t hooked. I thought the producers and writers were trying too hard to make it different from the usual roster of medical dramas that it also delved in crime and mystery.
Still, with the short life of Argon and boredom sneaking in, I gave the second episode a chance. That was when I started liking this series.
Life — I admit, a title too generic — dramatizes the power struggle in hospital operations. The Sangkook University Hospital was acquired by a corporation, which installed as president a non-medical practitioner, Gu Seung-hyo. The ambitious businessman then started initiating changes in the management of the hospital.
One of his first directives was to send emergency medical teams, pediatrics, and obstetrics and gynecology units to rural hospitals in the name of public service. While laudable, these departments are the most crucial units in any hospital. It was later discovered that the President was making this decision because the three aforementioned units have consistently scored losses in terms of profitability.
What I particularly like about this series is how they portray the President as someone not entirely clouded by his desire for power and need for approval. He is weighed down by an internal dilemma — not explicitly shown in the series, so far, but which can easily be inferred — when it comes to leadership. What wins: morality or business?
Had I still been the person I was more than five years ago, the Cherry who wouldn’t find time to enjoy non-consequential things such as watching movies and series, I would have missed on these good things: the beauty of Tolkien’s LOTR, the wisdom of Argon, and the practicality of Life.
Now I understand that boredom can be a friend, if we let it. •