Mondayest Monday That I Have Ever Mondayed.
Yesterday, I was indoors all morning and afternoon. Decided to try a mandazi recipe. I didn’t bother checking how many pieces the ingredients would make. Outcome: a whole basin of mandazis. 😏😏 Sasa nitazipeleka wapi? 😡
The first ten pieces were heavenly — probably because they were still hot. The rest? Quite hard. Straight up ngumu style. What happened to that softness staying put?
Evening rolls in, and I’m on a call with mum — God knows how I enjoy those moments. Lost track of time. At 7:30 p.m., I’m dashing out with Hailey to the salon for her usual hair wash and straightening. It’s a 15-minute walk to our go-to place.
Rhoda hadn’t even blow-dried her hair for two minutes before — blackout. Not to worry (busy consoling myself), KPLC just playing one of their classic pranks. We’ll wait it out.
Ten minutes later, it starts to rain. Heavy downpour. Now we’re stuck: no light, wet hair, and clearly, not going anywhere.
“Mum, I know what can keep us busy! Let’s play this game. I’ll say three things: two are lies, one’s true. You guess which one is true.”
Sounds good.
“I hate snakes. I love large bodies of water. I’m afraid of dying alone.”
Easy-peasy. Of course, you hate snakes, and yes, you’re scared of dying alone. So… all true? You can even swim in the ocean. That checks out.
“MUM!! You really don’t know your child!”
Ala! What just happened?
“First, I don’t hate snakes. I don’t want them near me, but they have cute skin.
Second, why would I be afraid of dying alone? It’s not like you’ll feel it — it just happens.”
Don’t even try guessing how many rounds of this game we played. Long story short, we got home past 10 p.m., her hair still undone, both of us drenched, and the house was in total darkness.
Did I mention I hadn’t made supper?
Finally in bed past midnight. Soothing rain outside. No sooner than I begin to drift off...
By the way — if you’re taking the sambaza seat in a mathree, please, you can’t just squeeze into people when you’re soaking wet and expect them to magically dry you off with their dry clothes.
Yes, I get it — starehe ni kwa gari yangu — but sina kwa sasa. 😂😂
Let’s be considerate, eh?
Where was I? Ah yes — in bed, past midnight, not even done with the first dream.
⏰ goes off. Come on! Are ‘they’ messing with the time now? Ibeni basi!
Hailey’s struggling to wake up. Still pouring outside. I quickly help her get ready, then walk her to catch the school bus, holding an umbrella over her. Something tells me to dash back and hand her a fleece jacket — it’s cold.
Stepping out again, I hit a puddle in the corridor. I slip. Instinctively grab the side of the door to avoid going down. The heavy metal door slams shut — right on my middle finger.
Excruciating pain!
I sat on the wet corridor for a full minute deciding whether my body could take this level of pain or if I should just... cut off the finger. Where are those ice cubes?
That jacket never made it to her.
Getting ready for work took me a whole century.
9:38 a.m. — still stuck in traffic, drying off my drenched seatmate with my woolen coat.
Middle finger now the size of a sausage.
Oh, and what is with this persistent stomach ache?
heheh.. interesting.
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