No Money, No Honey.

“I never promised you roses, or the whole of the seven kingdoms…there’s gonna be a little storm sometime, but we’ll get over it…” That’s what I told her, right before she told me to get out of her house. Yeah, at first I thought she was joking, but then she started shouting, or yelling at me to be precise, and that’s when I knew I had to gerarahia ASAP before I ended up losing my virginity…oops sorry, losing my dignity. And that was some time back, many weeks ago before I got saved and decided to go back to church and serve the Lord with all my heart, mind, soul blahblahblah….

Okay, and now fast forward to today morning…

I woke up early, and by early I mean waking up at four in the a.m coz apparently I have to beat the traffic since I have a job to go to. I quickly had my morning shower (of which you shouldn’t believe me on that coz winter’s coming over here and with that in mind, my shower sessions are growing lesser and lesser). So let’s just say I improvised a type of bathing, it’s called le grand passport, or just passport, am not good at this French language either.

All this time am wondering why am up this early, coz honestly where am I even going to? 4 a.m. isn’t my time. I’m still supposed to be asleep… (Yeah all that crap I told you up there about me and my job and avoiding the traffic jam was all lies). 4a.m isn’t my time, I’m much of a p.m. person, I tend to wake up right before the one o’clock news.

Then I realize today’s that day when I’d finally decided to take a step towards securing my future, or at least that’s what I hear them say whenever they want to tell me how wasteful I’m being with my life. Today’s that day when I’d decided to finally do something meaningful with my life, and by that I mean I’d finally try and trace my college certificate in Thermodynamics II, make a few photocopies, write a 3-page CV on how I’d worked in some geothermal power station as the MD and send it to a few companies that were hiring. Ok I lied there a little, I dont even have any idea on what Thermodynamics is. But anyway I happen to have a certificate in some course I studied and thats what I was going to look for a job with.

And so my search begins, I need to find a job, a real job this time coz am not sure but I think that my joblessness might just be the reason why my girlfriend, or ex-girlfriend, decided to dump me…or I dumped her whichever. Anyway the dumping happened and we’re no longer a thing. #TeamSingle here I come haha!

Joblessness equals no mnoponey, and no lady ever wishes to date a broke fella. I’d gotten so broke that at times I’d just idle in her house even for three consecutive weeks without any idea on where I’d get money to even buy my airtime. All this time I’d tell her Gods time is the right time and soon my path would be open but to no avail. It even reached a point where I began blaming my joblessness on global warming, the Agrarian Revolution, the teacher’s strike, Aden Duale, Obamacare and any other lame excuse I’ think of and still it didn’t work.

Then one day she asked me what are my long-term goals…boom!

You know isht is real when a girl asks you that right huh? It’s like she’s already looked into the future with you as her hubby and seen a very dark path in her life, one full of poverty, misery, sorrow, diseases etc…name them, all those misfortunes that befall those considered broke by her standards.

And so that’s how sh*t happened and I found myself in the infamous #TeamSingle bus. I tried telling her how as long as she loved me we could be homeless, broke blahblahblah but believe me all these things your girlfriend tells you about how she’ll love you through thick and thin, ooh love is blind, ooh we can sleep hungry, we can feed on love…all that is valid just as long as the bill’s on you. 8854093008762The moment the tables turn and it’s on her, even for a single week, you’d better start okoaring all those loans buddy. Okoa jahazi, okoa stima, okoa rent….and the sooner the better coz the moment she realizes you’re facing that financial crisis, it’ll be too late. At first she might try being all that mother Teresa on you, she’ll act like an NGO providing relief food and supplies for your broke ass, she’ll even offer to pay for your tithes in church but that won’t last long though, end times will surely come if you don’t pick yourself up from that financial bullshit you’re in.

And so I told myself that maybe if I get a real job, just maybe, then I think I can walk back to her door, this time carrying a kilo of red meat (she loves nyama choma), 2kgs of unga ya ugali, a bottle of Old Monk wine to wash down the food after our heavy feasting and a diamond ring that’s encrypted with some microscopic infrared tracking device that determines whether she’s in the mood for getting laid or not (ok I exaggerated on that diamond ring part a little).

Till then, I need to find a job; I really really need to find a job that pays. Wish me well folks. But before I start my job hunt, I think I’ll first stop by this wines & spirits joint, sit by the counter, ask for three ounces of vodka, one ounce crème de cassis, a little blackberry liqueur, add ice, shake…and drink it all.

To happiness!

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