It seemed like the little tyrant that was my mind kept a vigil with a stop-watch and just when I was happiest in lala-land, she punched at it in mischievous glee – jolting me back to the reality of the physical world. She never let me sleep in – that one.
“See how you are sleeping. Wake up jo. You haven’t figured how you will create many masterpieces, and you are sleeping there. Abeggggi!” She smirked then added matter-of-factly, “By the way, you let the generator run over-night. Well done. Spoil it you hear?”
“Ughhhhhh…” I groaned in spite of myself and rolled out of bed like an over-fed feline.
On my way to the bathroom I tried not to step on the many pillows strewn on my bedroom floor.
“Why you insist on piling mountains of those awful throw pillows on your bed every morning only to kick them furiously away at night would never seem to baffle me. It’s not like you even sleep with any kind of pillow anyway…” She continued her tirade.
I swear, my mind was a wickedly sharp biological machine that acted like an annoying best friend you just can’t tell to shut up. That, and a prissy personal assistant (who reminded you of everything you would like to forget) and a shrew of an old woman who thought she had seen it all and therefore gave her unsolicited brash opinion about everything just because she could. Most of the time I ignored her.
“Hmmmn, Isio De-la gbo gbo e ati bee bee lo…” My mind teased me with a devilish smirk.
“Sharraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap!” I grumbled surly.
You look terrible, my darling. All grumbly and surly. You most certainly would not be winning any “Most Pleasant Morning Person” Award – that’s for sure. Not with that pouty face and that hair- all scallywag-ish and what not.” She chuckled.
I had to laugh. Learning to tame my unruly black mane was high on my Bucket List. If only I didn’t hate combing it so much… any little tuft of hair that clung to my comb after every attempt stung my soul with crushing disappointment yet unparalled. You should see my face when a hair stylist is approaching me with a comb… trust me, it is better imagined.
And this is probably the reason why I might never win a second award titled: The Black Woman with the Perfectly Tamed Hair That Blew with The Wind like Wow!
Later that day, in a much better mood, I started to grudgingly admit to myself Awards that I would never win – just for fun. You know, simple everyday things that I would like to be great at, but honestly acknowledge are closer to impossible than possible. After twenty minutes of self-perusal (with the help of my mind) I came up with these:
Baker of the Year
Also Known As the one who uses ovens for what they were originally intended for. I can cook anything from Nigerian to Oriental to Continental dishes, bhet I cannot bake to save any life. Number one, I don’t mess with ovens. That whole gboa-fire-boom action is just a bit much for me, biko. I don’t mess with fire and wrote about it in my article Fire and the Lover. So, as for me… my oven remains the choice spot to save my frying pans with the ororo I use to fry dodo and fish.
Cleanest Car Owner
I have a friend whose car is always so…immaculate. The interior of the car always has everything in its place, and smells like fresh winter air while the exterior glistens under the rays of the sun. No matter how much I organize mine, it does not always look so… immaculate. Little wonder. Between the dogs’ shed hair, the business cards and old CDs lying haphazardly, the car chargers and USB cables that always stick out of their hiding places, it’s no wonder I am not gunning for that award.
Cheerful Loser of Any Computer Game
I hate to lose. Especially to a machine. It just irks me… ahan! For this reason and this reason alone I never download any games on my tablet or phone. Except Solitaire. And that one I play it once in a blue moon, more like once in a pink moon and I must win o. I no gree, lai lai…
In-And-Out of shower in 5 minutes or less
I wish I could jump in and out of the shower in 5 minutes, groom myself and slap on my make-up in 10. How people do it, I wonder… It takes me twice that much time to even complete the ritual of brushing my teeth. O serious ga’an!
Like most introverts, I have a very peculiar habit. It goes thus…
Me to My friends (Mondays – Fridays): Babes, let’s hang out this weekend naowww. Like I really feel like dancing. Let’s go out, enjoy fresh air, good food and then hang-out somewhere.
My friends: Really? You want to go out? Miracle! When?
Me: This Saturday o! Saturday is always better than Friday jare…
My Friends: Okay cool. Will swing by yours by 7 on Saturday.
And then this is me on Saturday…
Dammmn. Wish I didn’t have to go out jo. Gosh, and then I have to dress up. Ha! And drive… and socialize… with people. And then I cower in bed and pray to God that my friends didn’t take my plans seriously.
But this year, I promise my friends that I would be better. I may never win the Social/Party Animal Award, but I will not win the award for the Introvert That Became a Couch Potato award. This is my promise to my beloved friends.
Anyways, now that I got that out of the way, by
celebrating acknowledging all the things I am gloriously bad at, I can now focus on the more serious business of sorting out my life-time resolutions and compiling my bucket-list… But you know me na, I like to balance the hard-stuff with fun, witty stuff…
No one is perfect, and we all know deep within ourselves certain awards we could never win. These are mine… what are yours?