So I ran out of bundles from sending too many Bitmoji to someone when I left the office. (Yes, B, that’s what they were. Google that. Don’t know if there’s an app for that for Windows phones. Muhahahahahahahaha! Is there any app for anything for Windows phones anyway?)
Anyhuuuuu, (I’ll be using this word now that Biko hated on it. You know how I’m always trying too hard to be a rebel? Yep.)
I thought I’d share this interesting discovery. Thanks to Facebook’s “On This Day” feature where it digs up your memories from the past on any day, I have discovered that…
I don’t know about you but I can shed tears very easily. Very very easily. I will cry over every movie that is good enough. I will cry when a child sings a song in church or in Sunday school and does not even know the words but keeps on singing very joyfully. I will cry when I see someone in pain or difficult situation. Like a few days ago when friends of our family lost a beloved daughter. I sat at their living room listening to the stories from her friends and family and just couldn’t hold back my tears. I had a headache that night.
This Sunday, I found myself crying on a Metrotrans bus. We were just making that turn around Globe roundabout (can I still call it that?) and I saw him. I saw the little boy coiled into a ball near the huge metal pipe that straddles the Nairobi river.
I wake up at 8 am today. A record. You all know I wake up at 10 am on Saturdays. It’s getting harder and harder to wake up at that time nowadays. I have made a pact with myself that I will not neglect friendships in the name of resting away during the weekend. So I wake up, dillydally in the warmness of the blankets, chat with a friend, let miss cat join me as usual and then I finally make it out at 8:30 am. Someone congratulates me for waking up that early. Well in. I am up because I am headed for a wedding. A wedding I cannot fail to attend. Hannah’s wedding. If you frequent this blog, you know Hannah. Hannah almost always is the one who comments first on my posts. If she doesn’t do it here, she will do it on my Hangouts.
She will ask about my day, even when I don’t want to tell her about it, which is almost always all the time. She will linger, even when I snap at her. She will be so sweet that I will eventually tell her. And when I actually have a bad day and willingly tell her, she will ensure I am okay. She will call the next day when I get to work to follow up, even if I was with her a few minutes ago in the house.
It’s been a minute.
Shikungigi.com turned one on 23rd, but I could not celebrate because I am normally completely drowned in work till it’s Friday evening. And that’s why I am so glad May 1st is on a Friday. Somebody say oh yeah!
I’m in bed. I have tried to sleep. I have really tried. It’s 00:54. I am tired. My legs feel worn out. I was trying to ice-skate. My cousin’s idea. I got into bed at 9 sth. Took on Taken 3. Liked it. Cried a little. Embarked on using a bit of my night bundle then decided to sleep. Wapi?
The cock is croaking now. No, we don’t call it croaking. Somehow I thought they go together. It’s crowing. I might be going crazy. Or maybe it’s all the thinking I should be processing that I’ve decided to forget about that is haunting me. I honestly don’t know what’s up. M-Pesa is apparently undergoing maintenance, so I can’t top up and text. I can’t watch something else. What am I? A couch potato? No. So I’ll do the only thing remaining. I’ll tell us all a story. It goes like this:
So I’ve been writing short posts, shorter than you were used to before we began the new year. A lot has changed between now and then. For one, I stopped talking about men all the time. This is a good thing, right? But apparently not for this joint. Secondly, everything about my days changed and I had to adapt with shorter blog posts. I did not realize I was doing this until a mini-coup was initiated with my last post.
Another week down. Lots of lessons learnt. Lots of food for thought. This will be short.
You harbour dreams of scaling the corporate ladder or birthing a very successful business. You dream of being able to drive the best cars and provide for your family. But do you ever think of the responsibilities that come with more? The responsibilities that come with a raise or a promotion?
Today has been usual. Nothing to write home about, until Betty nominated me for the Bible challenge on Facebook. Then pieces began falling together. I am a believer in things coming together for a purpose. Case in point:
I loved that series. Early Edition. Anyway, here is the thing, my writing is too erratic for anyone’s liking. For that reason, and to reduce the number of times I apologize for not writing consistently in 2015, I will be writing this weekly piece just to make sure the blog does not grow cobwebs. No one likes to walk through cobwebs, at least I don’t. Here goes:
I’m listening to that song because it’s awesome. Matt Maher is awesome. If you don’t believe me, listen to the song. I’m in this matatu that has pictures of all the vice presidents of Kenya plastered all around the windows. The four presidents are staring at us from the windscreen. The thing about Shiku nowadays is that she can only write on board stuff. Thoughts and Stuff. That’s the stuff of late. The stuff that inspires me. I honestly didn’t have content for this post but then I remembered all it takes me to come up with content is just letting my fingers do the walking.
I come from a family that prays a whole lot. We pray before leaving the house. We pray before eating at a hotel. We pray 100 times at an extended family gathering, courtesy of dad.
I’m seated in this room, my swivel chair positioned right where the A/C fan blows its good stuff. I’m listening to this insurance guy. A new friend. Maybe friend is too big a word. Acquaintance. That’s it. He is telling me about life insurance. The first person in a while to convince me that I need that incomprehensible thing.
I won’t lie to you. I have never been sure about insurance and every other thing adulthood has been throwing my way. Anyway, he weaves a neat story about it. And I am almost sold. But not in between thoughts about how I ended up here in the first place.
I’m in Mombasa.
Inspiration. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Nothing.
Why? Because I have been quite happy the past few weeks. I got used to the status quo. I got used to my commute, my job, my everything.