OK. 3 minutes...3 minutes....what the hell am I supposed to do with three minutes? Stare at the red of my eyelids? I’m sure people who design these things do it to punish women. Just like I will punish Mango Head if this turns out to be real. I haven’t actually thought past that point. Does this mean I can no longer do my South American tour? That sucks. Plus, I’m supposed to be in the US of A in August and this will royally screw it up. Well, it won’t really because it’ll hardly show, but one does hear stories about overzealous, Yankee airplane officials pulling heavy women off the plane if they look like they’re about to drop. And I’m already a heavy woman....Oh lord! The weight! I’m supposed to lose it all before I even contemplate anything of this magnitude. Now it will only triple and I’ll have to lose it all over again. I know I’m being totally selfish but I really don’t want to have to live in a boubou for the next nine months. I don’t want to be a stereotypical African woman who drapes the whole thing in yards of fabric; I mean, isn’t it supposed to be in itself, a shape? I see all these ‘white’ celebrities.... pseudo-celebrities some of them, like Khloe Kardashian and she’s wearing short dresses and high heels. How did she do it? How was she even that tiny when I already look like an elephant without trying? Maybe a boubou is all I deserve, like my mother, grandmother and all the women before me.
Serves me right for not getting that coil. I mean I have been talking about it with Mango Head for a while but I’ve just been too, too busy to do anything about it. Work has been murder with half the office in South Africa for the World Cup. Holding down the fort is just too time-consuming. But I really should have gone to get one long before now; after all it has been a year.
God! Now everyone at work will think I am leaving in August because of this! That is so annoying. I don’t want to be one of those women! I want to be one of the young women who leave to do something else; to travel, to have other experiences, to try it as a writer....which was the original plan before...which is the only plan. The only plan for me! The only plan. Period. But I might have to start saving soon, so I suppose spending on writers’ workshops and courses are out. They aren’t cheap. Pah! I have got to stop letting my mind run away with me, the stupid test is still running the hourglass symbol. There is no proof of anything yet. Come on, damn you! I haven’t got all day! She picked up the stick and threw it down the toilet with all her might...I have got to stop doing that. I don’t know why I am always writing this damn novel/novelette/ short story in my head instead of putting it on actual paper. Always a random string of sentences, anytime, anywhere. Why did I not just start writing the stupid book? I would have finished long before now with my typing speed. And I have tons of ideas too! But I suppose that’s not my problem, is it? I am a chicken, a coward, afraid of failing so I give up before I even try. Is that any kind of value to pass on to anyone? God, poor thing is royally screwed. I can’t make plans that work, I’m fat and afraid of failure. It just keeps getting better and better.
Maybe all isn’t lost though – if it ends up that way. There have got to be loads of women writers that are internationally successful and have gone down this same route; JK Rowling, Danielle Steele, Stephenie Meyer, Sophie Kinsella...does Sophie Kinsella have some? I always thought the Shopaholic series were the dying cries of a woman forced to renegotiate her identity. Oh I don’t know. Anyway these women all have some and they’re not doing too badly, are they? The question is, did they become successful before or after? Hmm...must look into that. Maybe I should go and get the laptop from the living room but I don’t want to get loo germs on it. Plus, I’d rather not wake Mango Head till I know for sure.
See his Mango-headed self, snoring happily. He doesn’t know if something is about to hit him. I will literally throw the stick at his head and wake him up. I mean, why should I be the only one to suffer through this anxiety? My hands are shaking. I don’t think I have ever seen my nails this colour....can someone die from excess adrenalin in the system? I must look that up on Google as well. I don’t doubt someone can commit murder from excessive adrenalin because right now I want to murder him for sleeping like a baby....ugh. Goosebumps. Mango Head says he’s never seen anyone have goosebumps on their chest before me...OW! I think I must have lain awkwardly on my nipples last night. It was so hot and I couldn’t go to sleep thinking about this morning, so I only tied a piece of ankara cloth over my body when I slept. The rough folds on my chest kept grazing my nipples. Mango Head as usual, didn’t notice me tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, but he sure will notice if he has to start pulling extra shifts! Haha! I crack me up. Actually, that’s not funny. I’d have to find a way to make extra money too. I must add that to my Google search ‘How to make money fast without winning the lottery’, just in case. It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.
It feels like three minutes to me now. Thank God for working in broadcasting, it just gives you a sense of timing without having to look at a clock. I really must open my eyes and face it like a grown woman. It’s only a stupid little stick after all...
SHIT.
Looks like I have to wake Mango Head.
