I wake up late again, and contemplate sleeping in the whole day. I mean what was there for me to do today?
“A lot,” I say to myself. “You have to wash the…”
“Shut up, killjoy!” I shout to myself wordlessly, but I get off the bed.
“Dear Lord, thank you for a new day,” I pray in my mind as I sit up.
I look at my phone and see that it is past 8 again.
“Oh well,” I think. “At least I am sticking to something.”
I switch on my mobile data, and relish in the sounds of notifications that make me feel important.
I check the messages from my mail box and immediately unsubscribe myself from some newsletters. I don’t have time for people asking me for money to learn their businesses.
Next I check my phone messages and get my dose of antidepressant, there was my three thousand naira sitting prettily in my account, and GTBank is yet to collect their bank charges.
I know the thieves would soon do that, but if they are yet to collect it, it was going to be a good day.
Next, I check my WhatsApp messages, and I see that the love of my life had commented on the group. I yinmu and read other messages, and discover that there is nothing interesting.
Next I go to my friend, Facebook, and I am not disappointed. I read comments, see my memories which strangely enough is about the love of my life.
Shaking off the nostalgic feeling, I remind myself of the good news; I have three thousand naira, I was rich!
Happy again, I head to the kitchen to warm up the leftover rice for breakfast. I see and greet my mother, and she replies me in a way that reminds me that I should get my own place.
I enter the kitchen sad again.
With the rice on the fire, I go back to my hole, and put on my laptop, and start typing. I don’t even know what I am writing, but at least I am breaking through the block.
Happy at the eighty three words which make absolutely no sense, I head back to the kitchen dish out the food and go back to my hole.
You see, my hole is the only place I get a resemblance to the privacy I believe I would have gotten if I lived alone.
I realize that I am thirsty, and I find that the water gallon is empty.
“Another thing you would have done if you had woken up early,” one of the voices tell me.
“Shut up,” I reply.
I walk back to my hole where I type away again, until my dry throat reminds me that I was yet to attend to it.
Then I remember.
“Mummy, I want water!” I call out to her. ”My chest is paining me!”
“My chest is paining me too,” she replies without missing a beat. “And who told you I am your mother?”
I walk away, knowing she will do what mothers do; give.
I go back to my hole and try to write, but my dry throat is still angry, so I start playing Zuma instead.
I hear a knock on the door, and I smile.
I open the door, and she gives me a bottle of water. Without saying a word, she proves to me that she is my mother.
I get back into my hole and switch off the laptop. I am sleepy.
I wear my headset and listen to ABBA, and I sleep off.
I am awoken by a call which turn out to be a flash. Calling the caller/flasher names, I sit up and go have my bath.
I feel refreshed and so I put on the laptop with gusto, then I discover how ugly my desktop looks without a wallpaper. Taking a few minutes, I browse pictures, and decide that one looked good enough, after gazing at how ugly I look in some of my pictures.
I decide I needed to lose weight, and in the same second, warn myself about saying such things. I have enough to deal with as it is.
I finally go back to Facebook and make a post which people ‘like’ a lot. I am happy again.
As the evening approaches, I get a bad news; a friend was laid off her job, giving me another unemployed person in my close network.
“What was that they said about the five closest people to you and their impact on your life?” one of the voices asks me. I ignore the question and go back to Facebook.
I reply comments and make new comments.
After boiling yam for dinner, I decide to take a stroll, but quickly changed my mind when I am threatened with being locked out.
I need to get my own place!
I must go out tomorrow, I promise myself.
“Yeah right,” I snicker.
I go back into my hole and start chatting with my friend who is one of the reasons I remain sane. Soon after he goes to bed, one of my complicated loves call me. We talk for a while until he has to go to bed too, as he also has work the next day.
Why does everybody have to work? Why can’t they all be like me and fell the pain of being jobless?
“The real question is: why can’t you get like everybody else?” one of the smartass voices ask.
“Because I am not like everybody else,” I reply, feeling like the smartass I knew I was not.
Saying goodbye, I turn to my laptop to write again, with a smile on my face.
The writing is going smoothly until it is interrupted by a message from someone I write for. He has a business proposal for me. We go through it and I get a surge of anticipation. I am no longer bored.
We discuss until late, and I go to bed by past two; an improvement in my book.
Today turned out to be a great day, I think before I close my eyes ready for sleep to take me away.
It doesn’t waste time before it does.
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