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Clouded Judgement...

@thatkenyangirl

I find that I have the best content when I'm mad ๐Ÿ˜ก out of my mind so here goes it all...

Fast forward Monday evening 5pm caught in the hustle and bustle that is Nairobi and its traffic in general ๐Ÿ˜’ ๐Ÿ˜’ I mean, after some time...2 years to be exact, you kinda get used to it...you find ways to "effectively" pass time. It's my third January and I'm prepared for the madness ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜ I come equipped with a novel and happily forget about time 'till my destination arrives.

But today's not one of those sweet days...my body's got some agenda running and it hurts ๐Ÿ˜ข๐Ÿ˜ข right before I leave work...I'm aggressively bloated and sad for me, this isn't your ordinary "gas". It's gas on steroids! This gas was that "can not be exhausted by obvious means ๐Ÿ˜œ kind", and my naturally "concave curved" tummy was now "convex" all of a sudden...man that shit hurt and built up with every step ๐Ÿ˜ฉ๐Ÿ˜ฉ home is where I needed to be!!

ย 

Gas is light in weight so standing up isn't the best position someone in my current state should be but I had to make that walk and fight my way through the human and vehicle traffic that is the CBD...and seemingly enough, neither is sitting upright in a matatu you barely fit in for what seems like hours as it navigates its way through the city to get us home. At some point, they stopped at some filling station ironically enough, to re-fill one of the tires with ..."gas" as payment for the mental sarcasm I felt this huge bubble travel the length of what I should assume is my duodenum and it collected where the rest vigorously rubbed against each other and exerted pressure on my other organs. I felt it all it got so deep I had heat waves at some point, desperately keeping my head down for sanity and praying I don't pass out. I've never felt discomfort this bad ๐Ÿ˜ข

ย 

I honestly do not and will not pretend to know what birth and carrying a child feels like and I will not try and equate the feeling of that to this but if I can tell you one thing for sure from the experience in general, it's that I've officially located the path my diaphragm takes in breath, for it was traced for me right before my eyes and it had all the feels to go with it. I mean, that is of course, if your baby was mean enough to turn itself around and start kicking at your organs crushing them all in! A bit brutal but...YES! That's what that feeling was...crushing...boy it hurt.

ย 

It's building up so fast so hard I cannot afford to walk the 10-15 minute walk from the stage to the house...In this state, not only would it be uncomfortable, but it would take twice as long. On the same note, i couldn't imagine the pain and discomfort a boda-boda ride would bring and it would only take me halfway ๐Ÿ˜’ I hop off the matatu and wave forward a taxi. My best option if my aim is not to blow up into pieces! Spare whatever costs this car will take me straight to my gate and I need to get home now!!!

ย 

6:45 pm; some fraction of gas successfully expelled...I'm feeling understandably weak, lighter but weak and lay on my bed with my tummy raised on a pillow trying to take stock of what just happened and how I feel like a hero for overcoming all that ๐Ÿ˜‚ I honestly thought I'd blow up and pop like a ๐ŸŽˆ๐ŸŽˆ relieved by it all, my body effortlessly drifts off having found comfort after pain ๐Ÿ˜Š๐Ÿ˜Š a few sweet minutes of peace and I'm startled awake at 7:30 pm ๐Ÿ˜ณ๐Ÿ˜ณ sh*t I should be cooking!

ย 

Try as I may, my body just won't budge easy, all that remaining gas is only "settled" because I'm not upright anyway...I send a quick text to my mom who's yet to arrive, alerting her of the situation..."not feeling too good, can barely stand let alone cook" she responds and confirms that she too is on her way back and that there's enough food so no cooking, maybe just ugali when she arrives. Having my world complete for an instant, I swiftly allow my eyelids to flatter shut.

ย 

Born one with responsibilities, that doesn't last long...I remember the dishes in the sink. No one likes to come home and find dishes piled up in the sink right before they cook...it's unethical!!! Tony's ONLY chore...is to do whatever dishes he finds in the sink when he comes back from school. No one but my dad is in on most days so there's never too many dishes in the sink. It should be easy work you'd think...but 99.9% of the time I get home all tired and groggy and I have to either remind him to do it or get it done myself because I don't have the patience or strength to argue...but not today, today I feel like crap. There's this weird vibration to my body I just wanna lie here for a while....

ย 

After much contemplating.. it's 7:40 pm, I call out to Tony. His room is right opposite mine...not much energy needed ๐Ÿ˜Š he comes bouncing in, I lift my weary head and let him know that I'm not feeling too good today;

ย 

"it's your job to do the dishes after school and you know it, it's not fair that I have to remind you every day. We need to help each other work if anything' ever going to get dons around here! On Friday I told you to and you ignored me, so I ended up doing it myself...and today I honestly can't, please let there be no dishes in that sink by the time mom comes back" I instruct.

ย 

Flushing him the puppiest of eyes I can master *and in my sickly state I know it's working* ๐Ÿ˜œ guilt trip him I say to myself ๐Ÿ’ญ๐Ÿ’ญ it always gets it done ๐Ÿ˜ฌ๐Ÿ˜ฌ with nothing to say for himself, he walks back in to his room, I hear the light switch go off and the pitter-patter of his feet as he makes his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Good boy ๐Ÿ˜I think to myself and roll over.

ย 

Again, my peace is short-lived. Barely a minute passes by and I hear the sound my name..."WINNIE" initially I ignore it...but then it came through louder....WINNIE!! I had no choice, I had to show face! I have been summoned by the man of the house himself. Internally, I let out a cry and rise to my feet...reluctantly making my way to the door. I swing it open and find Tony halfway up the stairs..."you're being called" filled with annoyance, I don't respond. I know he's been sent to summon me.

By now my mind is overworked with the reality that he is going to demand a whole new recipe that is far from what mom and I have planned for tonight and I won't have a choice but to concur ๐Ÿ˜”๐Ÿ˜” Dragging myself down the stairs, body slightly slouched, I'm not about to stand up straight. I'm traumatized from the last time I did that...I'll slouch. Noticing the relief in my body as I take every step, I reach the bottom step, come into full view and await sentencing...

ย 

WINNIE: Yes?

DAD: Is there something you wanted Kevin to do for you?

WINNIE: I needed more holes drilled in my bin

DAD: Ok, go check it out

ย 

The feeling in my body temporarily numbs out for a second, I had no idea Kevin was here ๐Ÿ˜ณ๐Ÿ˜ณ and he worked on my bin!!! In my absence for that...I was at work all day...feelings recollected, I walked towards the back of the house. Still stooped over, nursing the discomfort in my midsection. I flip a switch on the wall and walk through the back door. One look at my bin and I feel like crumbling to the ground ๐Ÿ˜ข holes, holes, holes all over...just like I wanted...but all in the wrong places! I was touched. ๐Ÿ˜”๐Ÿ˜ž He didn't even bother sanding it down, one touch and I had a splinter...too tired to react I mouth a short complaint to my brother and walked back in to the house.

ย 

For this part. Please note that Kevin is the "family" carpenter. He's really good with this hands and very reasonable with his charge and for that precise reason, I saw it fit to "employ" his services a while back to build me a worm bin ๐Ÿ› ๐Ÿ› out of some wood I had. Now, me being the nerdy biologist ๐Ÿ‘ฉ๐Ÿพโ€๐Ÿ”ฌ with the weird like for yucky creatures, and extreme need to study them, have a worm bin that is currently home to a number of red worms that happily compost food waste for me in the back yard. A little experiment of mine that I happen to find immense pleasure in despite its "disgusting" appearance to ignorant eyes. And now here it sits with all this stupid holes, pained by the fact that none of them saw it fit to consult me before they went on a tampered with my business ๐Ÿ˜ก๐Ÿ˜ก๐Ÿ˜ค

ย 

Deeply disappointed in this day, I start my way back up the stairs, I just want to lie down! Two steps up,

ย 

DAD: Have you seen it?

At this point I'm thinking...what the hell, it's not like it can be un-done and I have no energy left in me.

WINNIE: Yes

DAD: I don't know what you two had discussed but I told him that for money he should come to you.

WINNIE: OK

ย 

Back in bed, trying to catch my breath but at the back of my mind I'm fuming ๐Ÿ˜ค๐Ÿ˜ค like a mad cow! I called Kevin over last year beginning of December to work on the "extra holes" for the bin. We set up a meeting and he didn't bother showing up. This was the second time he stood me up...he always has legit reasons as he works freelance but that never explained why he never showed up and didn't even bother to explain himself let alone reschedule!

ย 

I gave up on him shortly after that, never spoke to him again, figured the business wasn't worth it if he insisted on treating me like a child and not with respect like he does my dad yet I paid him for his services without delay. So I settled to using the bin as it was, I'd add the holes as I went. Until today I had forgotten about that plan.

ย 

Now reign on January, in the midst of all broken-ess, this person who hasn't even spent a cent to wish me decent complements of the new year comes swooping in thinking he's saving the day and surprising me with his shoddy work and I'm supposed to be thankful? I bet you he feels like super man wherever he is but all he did was lose a very willing and vibrant customer. The logical thing for either of them would have been to contact me and get my opinion before aimlessly drilling into my hard earned and well loved project destroying its beauty for me. Once again he treated me like a child and I patiently await the day he contacts me for boy do I have a mouthful of words for him. I will pay no cent towards his distraction..he can un-drill his holes if he must for I refuse to pay for work I did not approve of in the first place. Lessons must be learnt I guess. Shrugging the annoyance away, I focus on resting now...

ย 

Meanwhile, downstairs...8:30pm. Dad's been hinting at the fact that his garden needs watering for the past 30 minutes. Obviously irritated and eager for the task, he wants to do it through Tony but he just won't come out of the kitchen....

ย 

DAD: Tony, what are you doing?

TONY: Washing dishes

DAD: Out of nowhere starts yelling: "I don't understand why you should be doing such chores while "girls" stay asleep upstairs!"

ย 

๐Ÿ˜ณ๐Ÿ˜ณ my eyes pop open, deeply touched by the simplicity and ease those words flowed out of his mouth...filled with rage and adrenaline I find power in my feet and storm down the stairs. By now they're both walking out of the house. I let him know that he's been heard and that his words were not nice and dishes are something Tony does as part of his chores. Naturally like the father he is, he dismisses me with a single word...."excuse me" not having mood for it I walk back up.

ย 

Enraged beyond measure, rest is far from mind now, I'm weak but I must do something for fear of going mad...i walk into the kitchen and I'm shocked by the sight of 7 poorly soaped glasses, 2 plates and 2 pots. In the space of an hour this boy had accomplished NOTHING!!! My eyes budge out of their sockets and for a moment I cannot decide who I'm more mad at, my dad for undermining my efforts on a daily or my brother for being such useless help! I'm fuming ๐Ÿ˜ค with great expertise, I clear the sink in a matter of minutes and it is in that moment I decide that writing it all down will make me feel better.

ย 

11:43 pm, supper served, humans fed and dishes cleared I complete my rant with new hopes for tomorrow as today comes to an end. Family is ANNOYING but what are you without them?!

Fast forward Monday evening 5pm caught in the hustle and bustle that is Nairobi and its traffic in general ๐Ÿ˜’ ๐Ÿ˜’ I mean, after some time...2 years to be exact, you kinda get used to it...you find ways to "effectively" pass time. It's my third January and I'm prepared for the madness ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜ I come equipped with a novel and happily forget about time 'till my destination arrives.

But today's not one of those sweet days...my body's got some agenda running and it hurts ๐Ÿ˜ข๐Ÿ˜ข right before I leave work...I'm aggressively bloated and sad for me, this isn't your ordinary "gas". It's gas on steroids! This gas was that "can not be exhausted by obvious means ๐Ÿ˜œ kind", and my naturally "concave curved" tummy was now "convex" all of a sudden...man that shit hurt and built up with every step ๐Ÿ˜ฉ๐Ÿ˜ฉ home is where I needed to be!!

Gas is light in weight so standing up isn't the best position someone in my current state should be but I had to make that walk and fight my way through the human and vehicle traffic that is the CBD...and seemingly enough, neither is sitting upright in a matatu you barely fit in for what seems like hours as it navigates its way through the city to get us home. At some point, they stopped at some filling station ironically enough, to re-fill one of the tires with ..."gas" as payment for the mental sarcasm I felt this huge bubble travel the length of what I should assume is my duodenum and it collected where the rest vigorously rubbed against each other and exerted pressure on my other organs. I felt it all it got so deep I had heat waves at some point, desperately keeping my head down for sanity and praying I don't pass out. I've never felt discomfort this bad ๐Ÿ˜ข

I honestly do not and will not pretend to know what birth and carrying a child feels like and I will not try and equate the feeling of that to this but if I can tell you one thing for sure from the experience in general, it's that I've officially located the path my diaphragm takes in breath, for it was traced for me right before my eyes and it had all the feels to go with it. I mean, that is of course, if your baby was mean enough to turn itself around and start kicking at your organs crushing them all in! A bit brutal but...YES! That's what that feeling was...crushing...boy it hurt.

It's building up so fast so hard I cannot afford to walk the 10-15 minute walk from the stage to the house...In this state, not only would it be uncomfortable, but it would take twice as long. On the same note, i couldn't imagine the pain and discomfort a boda-boda ride would bring and it would only take me halfway ๐Ÿ˜’ I hop off the matatu and wave forward a taxi. My best option if my aim is not to blow up into pieces! Spare whatever costs this car will take me straight to my gate and I need to get home now!!!

6:45 pm; some fraction of gas successfully expelled...I'm feeling understandably weak, lighter but weak and lay on my bed with my tummy raised on a pillow trying to take stock of what just happened and how I feel like a hero for overcoming all that ๐Ÿ˜‚ I honestly thought I'd blow up and pop like a ๐ŸŽˆ๐ŸŽˆ relieved by it all, my body effortlessly drifts off having found comfort after pain ๐Ÿ˜Š๐Ÿ˜Š a few sweet minutes of peace and I'm startled awake at 7:30 pm ๐Ÿ˜ณ๐Ÿ˜ณ sh*t I should be cooking!

Try as I may, my body just won't budge easy, all that remaining gas is only "settled" because I'm not upright anyway...I send a quick text to my mom who's yet to arrive, alerting her of the situation..."not feeling too good, can barely stand let alone cook" she responds and confirms that she too is on her way back and that there's enough food so no cooking, maybe just ugali when she arrives. Having my world complete for an instant, I swiftly allow my eyelids to flatter shut.

Born one with responsibilities, that doesn't last long...I remember the dishes in the sink. No one likes to come home and find dishes piled up in the sink right before they cook...it's unethical!!! Tony's ONLY chore...is to do whatever dishes he finds in the sink when he comes back from school. No one but my dad is in on most days so there's never too many dishes in the sink. It should be easy work you'd think...but 99.9% of the time I get home all tired and groggy and I have to either remind him to do it or get it done myself because I don't have the patience or strength to argue...but not today, today I feel like crap. There's this weird vibration to my body I just wanna lie here for a while....

After much contemplating.. it's 7:40 pm, I call out to Tony. His room is right opposite mine...not much energy needed ๐Ÿ˜Š he comes bouncing in, I lift my weary head and let him know that I'm not feeling too good today;

"it's your job to do the dishes after school and you know it, it's not fair that I have to remind you every day. We need to help each other work if anything' ever going to get dons around here! On Friday I told you to and you ignored me, so I ended up doing it myself...and today I honestly can't, please let there be no dishes in that sink by the time mom comes back" I instruct.

Flushing him the puppiest of eyes I can master *and in my sickly state I know it's working* ๐Ÿ˜œ guilt trip him I say to myself ๐Ÿ’ญ๐Ÿ’ญ it always gets it done ๐Ÿ˜ฌ๐Ÿ˜ฌ with nothing to say for himself, he walks back in to his room, I hear the light switch go off and the pitter-patter of his feet as he makes his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Good boy ๐Ÿ˜I think to myself and roll over.

Again, my peace is short-lived. Barely a minute passes by and I hear the sound my name..."WINNIE" initially I ignore it...but then it came through louder....WINNIE!! I had no choice, I had to show face! I have been summoned by the man of the house himself. Internally, I let out a cry and rise to my feet...reluctantly making my way to the door. I swing it open and find Tony halfway up the stairs..."you're being called" filled with annoyance, I don't respond. I know he's been sent to summon me.

By now my mind is overworked with the reality that he is going to demand a whole new recipe that is far from what mom and I have planned for tonight and I won't have a choice but to concur ๐Ÿ˜”๐Ÿ˜” Dragging myself down the stairs, body slightly slouched, I'm not about to stand up straight. I'm traumatized from the last time I did that...I'll slouch. Noticing the relief in my body as I take every step, I reach the bottom step, come into full view and await sentencing...

WINNIE: Yes?

DAD: Is there something you wanted Kevin to do for you?

WINNIE: I needed more holes drilled in my bin

DAD: Ok, go check it out

The feeling in my body temporarily numbs out for a second, I had no idea Kevin was here ๐Ÿ˜ณ๐Ÿ˜ณ and he worked on my bin!!! In my absence for that...I was at work all day...feelings recollected, I walked towards the back of the house. Still stooped over, nursing the discomfort in my midsection. I flip a switch on the wall and walk through the back door. One look at my bin and I feel like crumbling to the ground ๐Ÿ˜ข holes, holes, holes all over...just like I wanted...but all in the wrong places! I was touched. ๐Ÿ˜”๐Ÿ˜ž He didn't even bother sanding it down, one touch and I had a splinter...too tired to react I mouth a short complaint to my brother and walked back in to the house.

For this part. Please note that Kevin is the "family" carpenter. He's really good with this hands and very reasonable with his charge and for that precise reason, I saw it fit to "employ" his services a while back to build me a worm bin ๐Ÿ› ๐Ÿ› out of some wood I had. Now, me being the nerdy biologist ๐Ÿ‘ฉ๐Ÿพโ€๐Ÿ”ฌ with the weird like for yucky creatures, and extreme need to study them, have a worm bin that is currently home to a number of red worms that happily compost food waste for me in the back yard. A little experiment of mine that I happen to find immense pleasure in despite its "disgusting" appearance to ignorant eyes. And now here it sits with all this stupid holes, pained by the fact that none of them saw it fit to consult me before they went on a tampered with my business ๐Ÿ˜ก๐Ÿ˜ก๐Ÿ˜ค

Deeply disappointed in this day, I start my way back up the stairs, I just want to lie down! Two steps up,

DAD: Have you seen it?

At this point I'm thinking...what the hell, it's not like it can be un-done and I have no energy left in me.

WINNIE: Yes

DAD: I don't know what you two had discussed but I told him that for money he should come to you.

WINNIE: OK

Back in bed, trying to catch my breath but at the back of my mind I'm fuming ๐Ÿ˜ค๐Ÿ˜ค like a mad cow! I called Kevin over last year beginning of December to work on the "extra holes" for the bin. We set up a meeting and he didn't bother showing up. This was the second time he stood me up...he always has legit reasons as he works freelance but that never explained why he never showed up and didn't even bother to explain himself let alone reschedule!

I gave up on him shortly after that, never spoke to him again, figured the business wasn't worth it if he insisted on treating me like a child and not with respect like he does my dad yet I paid him for his services without delay. So I settled to using the bin as it was, I'd add the holes as I went. Until today I had forgotten about that plan.

Now reign on January, in the midst of all broken-ess, this person who hasn't even spent a cent to wish me decent complements of the new year comes swooping in thinking he's saving the day and surprising me with his shoddy work and I'm supposed to be thankful? I bet you he feels like super man wherever he is but all he did was lose a very willing and vibrant customer. The logical thing for either of them would have been to contact me and get my opinion before aimlessly drilling into my hard earned and well loved project destroying its beauty for me. Once again he treated me like a child and I patiently await the day he contacts me for boy do I have a mouthful of words for him. I will pay no cent towards his distraction..he can un-drill his holes if he must for I refuse to pay for work I did not approve of in the first place. Lessons must be learnt I guess. Shrugging the annoyance away, I focus on resting now...

Meanwhile, downstairs...8:30pm. Dad's been hinting at the fact that his garden needs watering for the past 30 minutes. Obviously irritated and eager for the task, he wants to do it through Tony but he just won't come out of the kitchen....

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