Not only do we have to suffer through the unpredictable turns of weather typical of this time of year, but we have to think of innovative ways to fill the boring hours when we are forced to remain indoors.

Fortunately, I like to read. But after I've finished a couple of novels, all the magazines including the June 1976 National Geographic that fell out of an overstuffed closet, and a stack of unperused newspapers, that activity wears pretty thin. Doing some computer work and surfing the Internet can provide a few entertaining hours. Then that, too, turns uninteresting and mundane as the attention span shortens.

While I have trouble dealing with the February doldrums, my wife is never at a loss to find something useful and practical to do. And she doesn't mind sharing her ideas with me.

"Why don't you clean out the utility room and move all that junk from the basement to the attic?" she inquires when I appear particularly bored and listless.

Hmmmm, gee, I don't know. Why don't I want to go out into the subfreezing cold of the utility room and struggle with dirt-and-spider-web-laden stacks of old garden tools, mildewed boxes and half-used insect sprays? Suddenly, the thought of rereading the 1986 World Almanac has a certain exciting appeal.

It's best if my wife cleans out the utility room herself anyway because I never know what to do with the junk. "Where do you want to put the hoe with the broken handle?" I ask after barely getting started. I know from long experience that I'm not supposed to throw the seemingly useless object in the trash. You never know when you will need the metal part to use as a trowel.

After about 35 such questions, she finally relents. "I might as well do this myself," she surmises, a note of resignation in her voice. Then I can get back to the important task of finishing the sports section of that old World Almanac.

When I have completed that reading chore, I realize how bad things really are. I've used up only a half day of February's virtually endless time span. Desperation has set in. I turn on the television set. With the cable system, we now have access to more than 50 channels of news, sports and entertainment. After a quick remote control click-through of all those potentially exciting choices, I don't know whether to stick with the latest report on the O.J. Simpson trial or a replay of the World Skateboarding Championships or a repeat of "Murder She Wrote" from 1981. And that's the top three selections on the television menu.

I give up. Back to the utility room to help with moving the boxes, tools and lawn furniture from one spot to another. Thank goodness, tomorrow will be Groundhog's Day and we can relieve the monotony by joining in the jubilant celebration.