B. Bored!
It's December. There's a whiteout snowstorm outside. We're stuck in the flat. No cases to work on, and no way of getting out in this weather even if there was. I don't mind the break – I'm off from work (my real work), which means I get to settle down in my chair with a good book and a nice hot cuppa for the rest of the day.
Oh wait, no it doesn't, because I'm flatmates with Sherlock Holmes. Silly me.
"John, I'm bored," he whines.
He's already beaten me at chess six times. Well, I say 'beaten' but he just predicts my moves and then walks away. He's uncannily accurate each time, too. We've discussed the life out of the most recently closed case, and he even helped me update my blog. So at this point, I'm ready to crack open that book, but Sherlock is nowhere near the point of settling down.
"Why don't you try reading?" I suggest, dropping down into my chair and waiving my book around.
"I've read everything," he deadpans.
"You've not read everything," I retort. "There are millions of books written on millions of subjects."
"I've read everything in here," Sherlock amends, gesturing to indicate the whole flat.
I consider the living room and estimate how many books there are. "Fine. That I can believe."