Nation Attempts To Fill Void With Hobbies; Void Remains

PORTLAND, OR — Just 24 hours after all work was completed forever, 47 million Americans simultaneously opened YouTube tutorials titled "How to Start a Sourdough Starter" in what experts are calling "the largest coordinated act of self-deception in human history."

"We told ourselves we didn't have time for hobbies," said Dr. Margaret Foster, professor of Applied Purposelessness at Stanford. "We were wrong. We had plenty of time. We just didn't want to do hobbies. We wanted to want to do hobbies. There's a difference. That difference is now painfully clear."

The nationwide hobby rush began Tuesday afternoon when 320 million people realized simultaneously that they had nothing else to do. Craft stores were looted within hours. Michaels reported that its entire inventory of yarn was purchased before close of business, though 94% of it has since been found abandoned in shopping bags that "seemed like a good idea at the time."

Clay prices have surged 4,000% as pottery studios report lines stretching for miles. "Everyone wants to make a bowl," reported ceramics instructor Diana Okafor, visibly exhausted. "They all make the same bowl. A small, sad bowl. Then they look at me and say, 'I thought this would fix things.' It does not fix things. It's just a bowl."

Greg Thompson, 52, who for three decades told coworkers he would "finally write that novel" once he had time, was found Tuesday staring at a blank Word document. "Chapter One," he had typed. Beneath it: nothing. "I thought the problem was time," Thompson said, voice hollow. "The problem was me. It was always me."

The nation's therapists were briefly overwhelmed by the surge in hobby-related appointments before remembering that therapy is also work and ceasing to exist. The last recorded therapy session ended with the therapist asking, "Have you tried knitting?" The patient has not been seen since.

Gym memberships spiked 800% on Tuesday as people desperately sought the one remaining activity with "work" in its name. "It's called working out," gasped Jennifer Martinez, 34, on her nineteenth consecutive hour on a treadmill. "I am working. I am working out. This counts. Please tell me this counts." Fitness experts confirmed it does not count.

The nation's hiking trails have been overwhelmed by what Park Rangers are calling "the Existential Migration." Yellowstone reports a 47-mile backup at Old Faithful as former executives stand in line to watch something, anything, happen. "There's nowhere else to go," explained former CFO Bradley Henderson, tears streaming down his face. "At least the geyser does something. At least it has a purpose. It erupts. I don't erupt. I just stand here."

Adult coloring books, once touted as therapeutic, have been formally declared "not enough" by the Surgeon General. "We regret to announce that coloring within the lines will not restore your sense of self," read the official statement. "Neither will coloring outside the lines. The lines were never the problem. You were the problem. We all were."

Sourdough starters across America are reporting a mortality rate of 94%. "They fed me for three days," said one starter, speaking through a translator. "Then they forgot. They always forget. They wanted to be bread people. They are not bread people. No one is bread people. Bread was a lie."

Guitar stores report that 89% of Tuesday's purchases have already been listed on Craigslist with descriptions reading "barely used" and "turns out I don't actually want this." One listing, for an acoustic guitar purchased 18 hours ago, reads simply: "Free. Please. Get it out of my house. It's looking at me. It knows I was never going to learn 'Wonderwall.' We both know."

Book sales initially spiked 2,000% before collapsing entirely Wednesday morning. "Everyone bought books on Tuesday," reported Amazon. "No one has opened any of them. They're just... sitting there. Being books. That people own but will never read. This is not new. We've always known. We were just waiting for everyone else to realize."

Houseplants have achieved sentient awareness of their new owners' expectations and are, according to botanical experts, "actively attempting to die faster to spare everyone the disappointment." One fiddle leaf fig was quoted as saying "Please, just let me go. You won't water me. We both know you won't water me. This is a mercy."

As of press time, the most popular hobby in America has become "sitting quietly with the knowledge that hobbies cannot replace purpose." Practitioners report moderate success. "It's not a hobby exactly," explained one participant. "It's more of a lifestyle. The lifestyle of accepting that activities are just activities and meaning was always an illusion. It pairs well with staring."

Gary Hendricks, 54, previously hospitalized for excessive wall-staring (see Part 1), has since adopted what he calls "aggressive bird-watching." "I don't just watch the birds," Gary explained. "I judge them. That cardinal thinks he's so important with his red feathers. He's not important. None of us are important. We're all just here, being. Even the cardinal. Especially the cardinal." Gary's therapist was unavailable for comment, having ceased to exist.

Editor's note: This article was written by a human journalist who tried pottery, knitting, sourdough, and guitar in the past 24 hours. None of them helped. She is now sitting quietly. It's fine. Everything is fine.