I have just been sad today. As I write this, I feel tears balancing in my eyes, I can barely see. Like I have mentioned before, I have this bad habit of rethinking things more than they ought and mostly making things worse than they really are. But today, I’m thinking about life. Or the end of it.
I have a quote on my gmail; it’s something Steve Jobs said, “If today were your last day on earth, would you do what you are about to do?” I have mulled over that for a while. My thinking is blurred and I have put Ambassadors of Christ, Nimekupata Yesu on Re-play. It’s a joyful song that is capable of making you sad. I don’t know how they can do that, these Rwandese (Rwandese? Rwandan’s? Who decides when to say -ese and -ans on these African names?)
Anyway, the Rwandans (-ese) are doing a good job at keeping the sad me happyier. But there is a guy’s smile there that I like. I keep going back to see him say ‘mwamba’ in that beautiful black and white smile. He’s cute, this one. So, as I listen to Ambassadors in repeat mode, Steve Job’s quote is on my mind. I read it a again and I answer, No. I would not be here doing this. I would not be seated on my desk waiting for KEBS to stop misbehaving and allow us to continue producing our water, which is really hygienic, by the way. I would be dancing to Barney and Friends with Bobo.
I would not be thinking about my relationship with my sister, wishing we were more friends than we are. Because I love her. (Another tear! Jeez, can I just blame PMS or hormones?) The girl who helps her mother cook for us at work has brought us pilau. This part, I would like to keep doing. I love Pilau. Not Njeri. The Pwani pilau that has black pepper that the faint-hearted have to keep selecting putting on the side of the plate. Ambassadors have gotten to the Mwamba part, so I rush to my VLC player and rewind. Will I go to hell for liking this smile too much?
Hubs calls. We talk briefly. This is one of the best parts of our marriage. He keeps tabs on me the whole day. Sometimes I wonder if we will outgrow this awesome habit. People at his place of work think it’s weird that we text and call so many times in a day. This one I don’t us to outgrow. Like the Reverend told us, it’s this kind childishness that keeps a marriage. The day you stop being childish together is the day you know things are going south. When you can play hide and seek, chase each other around the house, dance to songs (and laugh at what a bad dancer he is) the marriage thrives.
My player has started playing ‘Wewe ni Zaidi’ by a guy with two English names; and one of them is Smith! Erick Smith. Awesome song, Mr. Smith. But I still miss the Ambassadors (If I say that guy’s smile again, hubs will start ‘catch’). So I rewind again. For the umpteenth time. Damn! (Can a Presbyterian say ‘Damn?) What’s with me today? I need a coke. Seriously I think I’m low on caffeine.
My Pilau is getting cold. My heart is getting lighter. Writing is awesome, you should try it one day. I love being able to type my emotions and heart aches and joys and feel like a whole load has been lifted off my back. I know I probably love the comments and likes too much so make my day, comment on my posts. You might just save me from suicide. Really. I’m weak, I’m a mess many times, more times than people imagine.
I know how to put up appearances and type ‘lol’ even when my heart is crumbling. I talk a lot, and some people think I’m actually funny. This is a sanguine’s undoing. The world expects you to be happy and make everyone else happy. Even my own husband always mistakes my silence for anger. When I’m quiet, he asks me, “mbona nimemkasirikia”. And I have to keep telling him there are more emotions in the chart than ‘happy’ and ‘sad’. For me, there is also that emotion called ‘I also don’t know what’s wrong with me.’ I’m on it right now.
I’m glad I have hope in God, and the Bible tells me that this hope does not disappoint. Even at my ‘downest’, I know He’s here. Holding me. Understanding me, telling me I’m perfect — because He made me.