It’s lunch hour. On a good day, I would be munching away on a home-made Egg and Avocado and tomato sandwich; or those cheap-but-oh-so-good chicken wings from Quickmart. But then I’m stuck on my work station, a tidy mess of notebooks, lidless pens , calculators, water bottles , scrap paper sheets and mud stained drawings surrounding my laptop. My current life is about as exciting as a piece of wet bread; and even that is putting it mildly.
I am just from stalking a friend’s blog page; awed by his brilliant writing and feeling absolutely like bottom bin trash about my own all at the same time. Then I remember a sick joke that makes me chuckle and want to share it with another friend (lets call him J) ; only to remember (once again) that J and I no longer talk; because , well, life happened.
You hit it off, make really great memories together then ghost each other like the adults y’all are (or not). But we already concluded that human emotions are fickle and they always whither. That bridge was crossed and the ship done sailed ages ago. Sometimes you miss those ghosts in your past and would give anything just to hang out with them over greasy pizza and iced tea, one afternoon, then retreat back to your respective dark caves at 6pm.
Back to the present , still seated at my messy workstation, a million thoughts crisscrossing my mind. I can’t help but think; Adulthood was such a big lie yaani. In the literal Nairobi lingo, I cant even! I am tired. I need to have a word (and probably administer several palm-to-face impacts to them in the process) with whoever lied to us that all we needed to do was get good grades, go to the best schools, do a geeky course at Uni, work hard, graduate and everything in life would fall into place. Well, I am not saying it is bad, it just was a big lie. In other words, I did not sign up for this nonsense.
Yes, this is a rant.
I did not sign up for this waking up at 6am, taking 3 matatus to get to work; paying bills with all my money, having to budget , feeling lethargic and doing chores life. On days like these, I ponder the prospects of working as a drug mule and the probability of getting caught.
With the way things are set up, my only ticket out of this mundane adulting life is bumping into shit loads of money. Seeing as I do not have any exceptional talents that can make me rich, neither did my father leave behind large tracts of land which I can sell off to live my dreams; my chances to quick riches include: 1) Marrying an 80 year old filthy rich man/woman with a long history of cardiac arrest/ terminal illness 2) Robbing a Bank 3) Working for the GoK 4) Scamming real-estate hungry folks off their savings (Aye, Simple Homes peeps, you are an inspiration) and 5) Becoming a Pharmacist (I’m not talking about Piriton and Aspirin, you fool!)
My heart is too weak for option 2 so the rest are pretty solid options; starting with No.1. Now all I have to do is locate that rich old man first. If anyone has any leads, please get in touch. Yes? TIA.