A few days ago I sat at a party, surrounded by a mob of exciting (and rather excited) Lagosians chatting tirelessly. And I was limitlessly bored out of my small skull. Strangely, I couldn’t remember the last time I felt boredom settle on me so cosily…especially while out at an event. This is funny because I vividly remember a time when being bored at parties and events was a constant. Oh I’d look well enough on the outside, dancing and making small talk…I’m a strange one. On some level I am quite the extrovert, yet at the same time I am yet to find company I enjoy more than mine. I really enjoy MYSELF, in a manner of speaking.

Before, I’d get invited out, get dressed, get a night full of artery-blocking delicacies in my digestive trout, and make small talk with good people…then get bored halfway through the night and mentally clamp my brains’ mouth to keep it from yawning while exchanging details with people I am unlikely to sink friendship roots into. My nights were spent intermittently dancing and clandestinely checking my watch, wondering when it was sufficiently polite to excuse myself and go home, all social righteousness fulfilled. Then I started work in earnest and I’m not sure when I morphed from social butterfly to couch potato…or if I really was indeed a social butterfly; for much as I love a good night out with friends, I realise I’d always pick hosting a friend or two at mine than air kissing a ton of acquaintances at a fancy club in the city.

And so sitting at the party last week, I remonstrated myself, I said, “Self! When did you forget that awkward yet familiar feeling that is social boredom??”

My fine self answered audaciously, “Sometime early in 2013.”

It occurred to me that this year, I have not done anything I did not want to do. I haven’t honoured every invitation I got solely because I felt obliged to attend. I have a plate so full with a mash of things I’m mandated to do to survive (read: my job) and a mix of things I genuinely loved to do like singing, teaching and engaging in service.

It dawned on me then, that because I have chosen to fill every waking moment with the things I value, love and/or enjoy, boredom has no real space to survive. I have consciously determined to fill my days with things I enjoy doing and people I enjoy spending time with. And my life has totally changed.

So I sat at that party that I was honestly hoodwinked into attending, totally uninterested in its happenings because I felt like it had chosen me…I had not chosen it. I sat there morbidly aware of approximately 17 other things I would rather be dong than sitting in my seat, twiddling the stem of my glass, making small talk with big people and smiling with my eyes like a Tyra puppet.

…And then I thought, “WAIT! But I don’t need to be here!”

So, I picked up my vintage Ferragamo purse (shout out to my stylish momma!) and sashayed my fine self out of that time-combusting Lagos gathering.

And that is how a Lagos evening was saved.

On my way home, as I thought about how strangely that feeling of boredom fit on me due to a lack of use and unfamiliarity and I decided to keep that feeling an unfamiliar one by only undertaking activities I genuinely want to pursue. I’ve decided to only do things out of a desire to do them, not as a result of obligation or guilt. I think that’s what the Y.O.L.O movement in its truest form is all about. Living your best life. You. Only. Live. Once…so why waste it doing things you don’t really want to do? Or remaining at places you don’t want to be? Or being around people you don’t truly enjoy hanging around? No bueno guapo!

If it doesn’t add positively to my soul, I won’t do it. Neither Negatives Nor Neutrals. I think that’s one of the most valuable lessons 2013 has taught me.

I deal solely in positive absolutes. Absolutely.