May madness

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May was a tough month for me… Really tough. The parents really tried their best to drive me over the wall. It eventually culmated in me shouting at my dad after he locked the room I do my sewing in an effort to keep me from doing my work that night. He did that when I went to get his flask of water downstairs. So, I got upstairs, flask in hand, and lo and behold, the room was locked. This was between 11 and 12 at nighy. I went to his room and he had locked his door as well. 

At this point, ladies and gentlemen, i lost it. I went ballistic. I shouted, i banged at their door; it isn’t a moment I’m at all proud of. But I was very fragile emotionally and physically at that point, i was at the edge. 

It had been two months of craziness since my friend arrived. If not for how open my friend and I were at communicating, I promise you, our 12 year old friendship would have gone down the drain. She knew my parents mannerisms almost as well as I and we weasled our way through. So, when they took to calling her to reprimand my behaviours for her to “talk” to me as a “good friend” it was a new card that they had never played  a because growing up, they never ever had an interest in meeting our friends. These behaviours were:

  1. Why do i always laugh with her and not with them?
  2. Why does she go to church and i don’t?
  3. why am i always with her, she should make sure she sends me away next time i come to check her in the chalet

There were also threats of sending her away for the slightest things. We talked indepth about everything, my friend and I but, in that week, asides all the parental drama, I had a mad deadline to meet and was barely sleeping. My father would go to bed by 11 and see me at the sewing machine; he would wake up 5 and meet me still at the sewing machine and there was no consideration, no sympathy. Just a series of “what have you done for mes” “the same diligence you use to work for your customers (if not greater) is for your parents”. I started to call him Captain Von Trapp in my head, before Maria came on the scene that is.

I said a lot of things in the dead of that night. A lot of things that would have, on a normal day, been left unsaid. But the fact was I knew that he had locked that door, to deliberately get a rise out of me. I rarely rose to anger but there is always a day of reckoning. I remember, at a point my mum came out asking, “are you mad?” (In Yoruba) and i told her “this situation doesn’t concern you. Action and reaction are equal and opposite… He locked that door to get a reaction from me and by God, he will get it.” I’m such a science geek. Lol.

I almost left this house that day, the only things that held me was my friend fast asleep in the chalet and my sewing machine – My livelihood. It’s one thing to flee home at 20 (which I did) another thing when you have a machine and customers​ to fend to.

I almost renounced my car that day. I had already taken my spare box (aka vex box, containing spare clothes, undies and shoes in case I had to leave the house real quick) and car accessories out, torn out all my car and church stickers. I wanted to slash the tyres… I swear. I was a haze of anger. When it clicked: He might have bought the car but it was my money that had gone into its maintenance and upkeep these past 4 years, not his. Possession was 90% of the law and Abby (car’s name) would remain mine. My dad would later used his steering lock on the car to ensure i didn’t drive it but, as the car had a fault and I wasn’t driving her, I ignored him and the lock.

In the esueing days, he would lock the gate from within when I went out to give a customer her clothes, to ensure I couldn’t come back in. If i went to the chalet to check on my friend, I would get back to the house and the door would be locked. This even happened at night! And my twin brother revelled in it. He seems to think we’re in some sort of competition so when there’s a strain in my relationship with my parents he levers on it and starts doing chores he will never do to show he is the better one. He will take my dad aside and paint a more detrimental picture of me to my dad. He’s 26. I’ve spent a large portion of my life not caring for him and watching him perfect this mannerism that it’s just amusing now.

I moved my sewing machine back to my room. It’s pretty cramped there but it will suffice, for now.

The events in May has made me take the bull by the horn concerning my moving out dream. This house is not mine. I do not belong here. I will never be truly happy here. These are realisations that May birthed in me. Realisations that have me looking deeper into my business and her financial stand and what I will do to get her to where we need to be: a studio/apartment.

Amazingly, business opportunities have opened up in all directions and I am so excited​. Me and my bank account both. Can’t wait to save enough to get out of here!!

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The last stand

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To start with, dear readers, i have no idea what I’m really meant to write. I started writing a post in my mind yesterday and titled it ‘The last stand’. I think I feel I have some sort of memory card memory.
Apparently not.

But hey, let’s talk about September. We’re on the brink of the last quarter of the year, my beauties and handsomes!
Raaaaaaggghhhh!!! 2015 is winking at us already
And i’m like, the Drunk Archer needs to take a look at her resolutions of the year and see how far she’s done.

1. workout 4 times a week… LOOL… No no… Must have been high when I thought of this. On the high side, lost 2kg from doing absolutely no exercise for the past 4 months.

2. Always have a christian book to read. *sigh*

3. List out your friends names somewhere. Know them, Take care of them. Yessss!!! One mark for me!

4. Less time on twitter. two marks!!!!! Yay me!!!

5. Get your big L on and start letting to drive. Three marks!!! I’m on a roll baybees!!!!

6. Attend more Human resource conferences. Done and done!! Check! 4 marks.

7. Take an hour before bed (10 or 11) to meditate on the day and write down things you are thankful for. Uuuuugggghhhh! *eyes glaze over*

8. Remember the fro and keep her nourished with multivitamins, moisture and oils. Once in a while, guys. Man cannot live by taking care of afros alone. 4.5 marks

9. Go out on more dates. Ummmn … No. Not the random dating type at all. And i’m seriously tired of guys right now… I’m now a shark… A lone shark traversing and daring any penis-wielding dude to dip his toe in my ocean. Oh yeah!

10. Develop a healthy eating regimen. So far, so good! 5.5 marks.

11. Always have a bottle of water in your bag. Well… I try. So, 6 marks.

12. Work on your relationship with God. Yup!! 7 marks.

13. Keep the nails uneaten. I am. I am. 8 marks.

14. Remember date-nights with God and don’t be late. Just an hour late…. That’s okay, right? Jehovah? Dad? Is that cool? .. 9 marks.

15. Learn to sew. Yuuurrrrp!!!! 10 marks.

16. Take yourself out to relax every three weeks. Ain’t nobody get time for that… We rest per night! 11 marks.

17. Reduce the shopping. Make More clothes yup! Hard at work on that! 12 marks.

18. Write your shopping wishlist for the year sha. Because you will still shop. Just keep to the list. i wrote the list… Counts for something right! 13 marks.

19. Save 20% of all inflow. *skips*

20. Pay your 10% tithe. #NeverForgetOrPostpone. Forever and ever and always! 14 marks.

21. Spend 10% for people in need. *Whistles by slowly*

22. Keep a journal of your spendings. TRY! Nahh… Don’t feel like trying.

23. Have a morning routine: pray, read, exercise, eat. *sigh*

14 out of 23….
That’s something! You guys vent so much about resolutions been broken by day two… But it’s month 9 and i’ve gone through 14.
So….

SUCCCKKKKK IIIIITTTTT!!!!

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when parents go clubbing

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Time: One random church day some weeks ago.

It was after service and my mind was already at home,dipping the fresh, still-warm white big treat bread in a warm chocolate mug (don’t judge me).

 

When this happens:

 

Father: go home with Diji after service.

Me: Diji isn’t going home; you can give me some money, i’ll find my way home.

Father: going home yourself is basically the same thing as coming with us, same amount of time… we’ll go together.

(An hour’s drive later that i didn’t rub it in their face that i’d have been home by now, outside another church)

Me: I’llΒ stay in the car.

Father: you can’t stay in the car, this area isn’t safe.

Mother pips in: it’s a concert, you’ll enjoy it.

Me: no, i won’t. (Thinks: i am not an old person).

I can’t wait till I get older and force (guilt trip) them to places.

Me: oh! Daddy, you don’t like those females gyrating on you with mum glaring at you? Sorry…. you can’t stay in the car tho…it’s not safe, the car might be a Decepticon.