Snippet #967998

It's said that time is money. Thus, it stands to reason that the more money you possess, the more time you have. And with time comes the obligation to fill it with activity, because nothing grates the mind and pulls one toward insanity quite like empty, meaningless time. "The poor," she thought, "haven't the slightest idea how difficult it is to be rich." A blanket of boredom settled upon Heather and brought her closer to sleep with each passing minute as she lay upon the couch.

Her father was off at some bar at the capital... what had he said he was doing? Something to do with politics; all that "Stock" business. The boredom weighed more heavily upon her as she thought about it. A bunch of old men in a bar yammering on about God knows what. It seemed everyone was caught up in politics these days except for her. Parties, other social gatherings- the damned topic consumed all conversation, sometimes immediately, sometimes slowly, bite by bite, until before she knew it she'd been devoured by it.

Agitated and bored, Heather pulled the blanket around herself and went to sleep.