Turning bad stories into witty blog posts…

Hello people… how are you all doing?

Nothing new or unusual with me, except I started a new diet on Tuesday 😀

The plan is to stop eating like a horse and not exceed 1000 to 1,200 calories a day. So far, it has been going well… the third day is usually the hardest for me and I’m past that. So, apart from short episodes of hunger-induced lightheadedness, I’m doing good.

This is not my first diet and, knowing me, it probably won’t be my last. I’m doing it because I’ve gone back to wearing over-sized clothes to cover up all my jiggly bits. I don’t go anywhere besides work and I haven’t gone swimming in a long time because I don’t want anyone mistaking my stomach for a floater… Sometimes, I feel hopeless and end up eating even more to make myself feel better. This might be drastic, it might be a temporary fix, but it’s a start abi?

Abi?

:'(

Also, I’ve been keeping to myself a lot lately. Recently, two of my friends told me that I complain too much, about every-damned-thing. They don’t know each other from Adam so I know it wasn’t a conspiracy against me. I told a third friend what they said and she didn’t have much to contribute… in essence I complained to her that my friends complained that I complain too much.

She didn’t defend me… There was no, “How can they utter such travesty?!” or “What nonsense! You don’t complain… you just voice your displeasure in a whiny voice.”

It served as yet another reality check for me. I thought about asking more people but then I figured that three people (or two and a half, since she didn’t actually say anything) is more than enough. You guys might not feel their pains because by the time you read my shit, it’s been “cute-irized” and made into a nice blog post. These poor niggaz gotta listen to me whine and bitch about everything all the time in real time. They also listen to the stuff I can’t tell you guys. So I’m trying to stop complaining so much to them and to everyone else in general. I honestly don’t even know how to go about it…

It’s funny cos now, when we talk, and they ask “How are you?” I say, “Fine”. After that it’s just static… or awkward silence.

“So… how is work?”

“Work is ok…” and then, just so that it’s not too weird, “Same old, same old.”

“Are you sure? How about your evil boss from hell?”

“She’s cool.”

“And that guy in your office… is he still asking questions about your sexual orientation?”

“Lol… nope.”

“How’s your generator? Still giving problems?”

“Gen is good now… so how are you?”

Followed by static… some more static… and then we start talking about something else and eventually they end the call with an “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Lol… yeah, I’m good.”

And that’s how it’s been… I have to carefully think about my answers. The good thing is, I have made up my mind to channel all that extra non-complaining time and energy to other useful things. I would like to register for art classes and I would also like to take my writing more seriously. I know it sounds a little over-ambitious right now, but it’s what I’m thinking in my head. So far, I’ve spent a disturbing amount of this non-complaining time faffing around on the internet. And you know the saying about idle hands and the devil’s workshop.

Besides, with everything going on right now, I would sound silly complaining about anything… I mean, it could be worse right? I could be in Sambisa holding up a sign in Arabic, the only plus being that I would be the first person in my village and hometown to feature on CNN… even though it would be for all the wrong reasons.

I wanted to put up a post about the Chibok girls but my words don’t ever come out right. Everything I’ve written is all sorts of political incorrectness… the kinds of things that would make people question my education and exposure. So me and my ignorance will sit this one out. One thing I know we all agree on is that the girls are returned safely… and soon right?

Tomorrow, I wanna go shopping for my art supplies. I’m excited about that, but I have no idea where to get stuff from. I don’t want to end up lost in Lagos Island, cursing out all those irritating Igbo migrants from Aba while they try and convince me to go to their “shayd” where I can buy “ortentic jims” (authentic jeans).

*sigh*

You guys should have a great weekend!