A rare brand of boredom

What name do you give to this boredom that plagues my life at the moment? What description do we give it?

It creeps in slowly, gradually, uninvited, and unnoticed. It picks a seat in my front yard, and seats itself down. Then it waits, for the last peal of laughter to die off on my lips, waits for the last guest to leave my room, and for me to put down the last book.
Then it turns to me, and smiles at me.

I smile back, thinking it is one of the guests. The nice familiar ones who drop by to say hello from time to time. Only this time, I notice a big bag in the corner, just behind this guest. This is a brand of boredom that has come to stay.

I go about my day to day activities, keeping only half an eye on it, hoping by some miracle, the boredom will leave. But alas! The more I try, the longer it stays.
I wake up in the morning, and I feel it in the shadows of my room. Sitting on its half unpacked bag, and staring at me. Those annoying gaps between its teeth, mocking me as if representing gaps in my life where some interesting activities have been evacuated.

When I take my bath, it smiles. As I dress up for work, the smile grows, by the time I get to my cubicle in the office; boredom is beside me, holding my hand, and laughing softly. It stays that way throughout the day, its mocking laughter ringing in my ears.

The more routine the activity, the louder and harder the laughter...