Managing Expectations

I have learnt from experience that the only way to avoid been disappointed is to expect nothing from no one. Expectations are breeding grounds for disappointments which in turn produces resentment and bitterness (should they be unmet) in varying degrees depending on how one longed for such expectations to be met. 

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Blues...

Gosh, like Alex I was going to say "what a terrible,  horrible, no good, very bad day," but Les Brown's taught me to refer to such days as character building days :) and of course, I'm not Alex.

I've been bombarded with quite a lot of character building days of late and I'm begging crying, enough already and this is is where I say...wait for it, wait, wait...

"Thank God it's Fridayyy!!!" Whew.

This week was so far from being nice to me abi the love sharing ended with Vals day? No na. Talking about Valentine, it's finally come and gone. How was it? Did anything special? Everyday should be valentine mbok, I'm in dire need of some special loving.

I'm freeeeeee...@least for now, lol

But come to think of it, is this a way the Universe' telling me to get out of the blue collared job and do my own thing? I doubt it.

Universe, is that you? Can you please be more clear and specific as it's not by throwing these challenges my way you'd get me to listen.

I'm so proud of how I've handled them so far though I've had some not so proud moments -tantrum throwing, impulsive crying, sullenness- hmm, in retrospect,  I've not exactly done so well but I'm getting there.

So, how do you handle your "character building days"? On another note, how do you handle difficult persons as well?

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A Nerdy World

This write up's just wow, I don't know what to term it {I leave that to you}. I enjoyed reading it and I feel you just might enjoy it as well especially for the literary minded persons like myself, I'm sure you'd relate with this. 

Reading's everything, I can't emphasise that enough. It's widely said that knowledge is power and one major way of acquiring knowledge's via reading but 'nuff said already, let's get back to that piece; mind, I took the liberty of Sourcemodifying a few things like switching the genders and some books. Enjoy→

Don’t date a woman who reads. She will be interesting. Your romantic dates will be like Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Your late night conversation will take hours to end. She will throw ideas and expect you to bounce something back. Brain exercises are not for the lazies.

Don’t date a woman who reads. She is fine spending time on her own. She can entertain herself for hours with or without you. A Brief History of Time might be your worst enemy. You might wonder if she's having an affair with Silas Marner or Harry Potter. You will always have to share her time with books. And, when you work late, she won’t get upset; books will keep her company.

Don’t date a woman who reads. She is hard to please. Ideas and imagination are the fuel to her brain. You will chase the knowledge and become a better version of yourself. She might want to teach you How To Win Friends And Influence People.

Don’t date a woman who reads. She is intelligent. Smart people know to invest in themselves. You will have to keep up and be more than just a hot body or a fine face. Beauty fades. Intelligence will show you the road From Here to Eternity. She will turn you from Good to Great.

Don’t date a woman who reads. She will listen to your thoughts and dreams. She won’t let you sit still; she will make you chase them. It cannot be harder than The Journey To The West. She will tell you that your only limit is you.

Don’t date a woman who reads. She will Think And Grow Rich. She knows reading is always a bargain. She will borrow thousands of people’s brains to turn her vision into reality. The Richest Man In Babylon will be put to shame.

Don’t date a woman who reads. She is a critical thinker. She has seen different opinions through thousands of pages. Reading teaches great analytical skills. Every little challenge will have a strategy session from The Art Of War. If you have a tough decision, she might have the solution. And you will have to learn to accept help from others.

Don’t date a woman who reads. She has a sense of perspective. She knows her problems will never be harder than the people in The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas.

Don’t date a woman who reads. She will always want to try new things. She will always try to get more out of life. For her, life's like an adventure like Around The World In Eighty Days. She will teach you how to Choose Yourself.

Don’t date a woman who reads. Her inner child is more alive. The Age of Innocence will never come to an end. Her curiosity and creativity will survive through school. And she won’t stop asking questions to find The Art Of Happiness.

Don’t date a woman who reads. She can be empathetic. She is used to putting herself in every character’s shoes. She will be there to pick you up when you fall. She knows Attitudes of Gratitude: How to Give and Receive Joy Everyday of Your Life.

Don’t date a woman who reads. She will like to challenge you like A Call To The Wild. She will give you book suggestions that will drive you crazy. She will push you hard to grow, and to share the journey with her. Nothing will be nice and smooth like a bed of roses. But the more you open your mind, the more things you will discover. And the more you read, the more you will realize you know nothing. And you won’t be able to stop chasing new ideas.

Don’t date a woman who reads. You will have a hard time reading her. The key to her heart lies below thousands of books. You will have to read things you don’t like. You will read things that will make you cry. You will read things that make you uncomfortable. That is part of every relationship. It will take real effort to meet her Great Expectations.

Don’t date a woman who reads. Because she is a storyteller. Everything through her eyes will look magical. One day she might tell your children The Greatest Story Never Told.

Never date a woman who reads. She is dangerous. Even if she looks like Jane Eyre, you will always find her sexy. You'll never leave her. Because every moment is like a new story in A Thousand And One Nights. She will be smart enough to see your value. Unlike The Snow Queen, she will treat you well. One day she might tell you that your Love Story was Right From The Beginning.

<And I couldn't resist chipping in this last bit :)>

Never date a woman who reads. She's a genius. She'll tell you that a A Tale of Two Cities is more than a tale and A Series of Unfortunate Events is no barrier to achieving her dreams.

Credit: Cammiphamm

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In the name of Love

Love's in the air.
On cupid's wings it rides.
Everywhere.
Love.
In our sleeping.
In our dreaming.
In our waking hours.
It hovers.
No thanks a little.
To St. Valentine's mettle.

Source
P.S, I totally dig cheesy :)

Yasssss😁, it's that time again, that season, where we get to pull a fast one with the term 'love' - and by 'we', I mean you cos I'm absolutely, completely, undeniably innocent of any wrong doing😜.

It's Valentine's Day and the 'L' word gets to have a comeback, to have its turn in the spotlight. It will be dragged out despite its protests of the timing not being right, bandied around, coerced, cajoled and even threatened - but it won't go extinct I assure you.

Oh poor love, now I understand why you hover, you're anxious. I am too because sadly, much atrocities will be done in your name. However, that doesn't take away from the fact that you're beautiful and worth celebrating. Feb 14th is much touted as lovers' day - though I wonder, why not Nov 6th?- and vigorously celebrated but it shouldn't end there, it ought transcend the limits of a day because it's special.

Love is beyond been tucked away and preserved for specials occasions like that dress you've got hanging in your closet which you've never worn because that special occasion's still to arrive. Every day's a special occasion in case you don't know or you've forgotten. But I digress, love ought to be an everyday act, a conscious effort on our parts. The sad thing however's that it'll be everywhere but where it ought to be, our hearts. For as much as we confess love, we also should try to show it, there's a great divide between confession and expression. But what do I know?

Mopey Happy Valentine's day ya'll😀.

P.P.S, it's all about this

Self love
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MMC: Horrible Bosses

What's with bosses and bossiness? I mean, that you're a boss shouldn't translate to being bossy. Or am I missing something here? I'll try not to rant about how my boss was unfair to me today, or how s/he is simply out to draw blood no, that won't do.

I simply want to understand why some of our bosses have become so drunk in power that they feel  the rules don't apply to them forgetting that there's something called karma. Or what about those that feel threatened by their subordinates, call it inferiority complex, I don't know but what I do know is that this bunch will go to great lengths to undermine your efforts at every turn. 

Nothing you do is ever right. Should you dare suggest proactive ways of getting things done, s/he feels you're after their job. Point out loopholes in a planned course of action, you're questioing their authority. Get commended by management, you're kissing ass and an ingrate. Like seriously, what do you do with this set of people? Constructive criticism? Mba, don't go there.

Would it be wrong to ascribe this to our Africanness? You know in this part of the world, we take our titles seriously. That's why you'd hear Chief, Dr., Mr., Duinne. MBA, PhD and anything that hints at being a threat to these elevated titles are rather dealt with swiftly. And my women folk (I hail una o), given that we are prone to displaying acts of pettiness - not that the male folks' excused but we're the ringleaders, lie? - you can imagine how that can be magnified in a position of authority.

Should you have a female boss, hmm, I pity you. I'm beginning to sound like the weeping prophet, lol but it's not all doom. It's just that my experience so far with my women folk has not exactly been spectacular which has also in part, informed my preference to rolling with my soul brothers.

That's not to say all female bosses are commandoes, no. I have friends who can't praise their bosses enough so yes, there are still good bosses out there, but would I be so bold as to pronounce that they outnumber the horrible bosses? Well, no. But I maintain that there are still good bosses out there and I'm one (at least I like to think so).:)

I'm pretty sure I've drawn rather hasty conclusions and my premise(s)' all shades of flawed but hey, what do you expect from a brow beaten worker? So tell me, how's your boss like? Would you consider yourself a horrible boss, yes, no? For what reasons? Share your thoughts.

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I Don't Know!!!

Hey people,

I know it's the first week of the Valentine's Month (yup, some persons are counting down in case you aren't) and I'm pretty sure you'd be expecting content of like nature but I can't. I just can't. I mean what's wrong with me?

Let's hope that the Valentine spirit comes upon me soon, else...but enough about Valentine, I want to share something that's had me bothered for a while now. Growing up, my favourite answer to any question, read, disturbance was "I don't know." It was my go to answer for whenever I needed to be left alone, my default mode. You see, I wasn't exactly a talker, I was more given to mince words. Getting me to talk was like trying to extract a confession from a guilty person.

I quickly discovered that pulling the I-don't-know card was the quickest way to end a conversation. By and by, I was set on a roll. That is, until it expired as everything has an ending.

Transitioning into adulthood, I realised that my fail safe answer wasn't going to cut it for me because as an adult, you're expected to know things or at least have an idea about things. 

Now, I'm not in anyway trying to glorify ignorance, by all means go to school and be enlightened but is it really compulsory to know everything? Can't I just be allowed to remain in my blissful state of ignorance? Can't I be allowed to say I don't know every once in a while? I mean, adulthood comes with a lot of responsibilities (I doff my hat to parents) what, with pulling a 9-5 job, battling traffic, dealing with antsy staff/colleagues, coming back home to deal with the children, house chores and a host of other stuff. Tell me shouldn't  adulthood of itself be termed a full-time  job? And then you're expected to top that off by being omniscient, please.

I find adulthood tiring sometimes (really), but would I want to exchange it for ice cream? Heck no. I love my freedom too much for that.

With life tugging at you from all sides demanding answers, when is it okay to say I don't know?

"Now that you've graduated what next?" I don't know.

"Ah corper, you have finished? So what next na?" I don't know.

"Now that you've gotten a job, what next?" I don't know.
"Ehn, your sister's married when are we coming for yours?" I don't know.

It's okay not to know everything especially if you know the One who knows, sees and hears everything. 

It's very much okay to sometimes look at yourself in the mirror and admit to not having all the answers. 

It's very much okay to look life in the eye and state emphatically, I don't know!!!

So, when is it okay to actually admit to not knowing a thing? Should it be a thing of shame to actually not know stuff? Who's to blame in propagating this know-it-all mentality?

The truth is, we can't know it all. Make peace with that.

I'd like to hear your thoughts, don't be shy in hitting the comment section.

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Through my Windows

Looking through my windows

I see rich and poor
Free and enslaved
Broken and whole
Different yet similar

I see beggars turn princes
I see the world at its best
The smile on the young Fulani’s sunburnt face
In a toddlers dainty tottering steps to its mother

And at its worst
I see that the rich also cry
And behind the façade
Lies more lies

Looking through my windows

My eyes behold the world’s wonders
And marvel at its stark ironies
At the joys and heartbreaks
Laughter and tears
Triumphs and defeats

I see the struggle for freedom
The struggle to hear and to be heard
The struggle for dominance
The struggle for equity, justice, peace
I see the thriving places

Laid bare by the menace of Boko Haram
I see the children
Lost, hungry and lean
Fear finds permanent residence in their eyes
I see the aged papas

And mamas
Dazed and confused
Wondering when they’ll be home again
This is not what I wish to see
But what has been seen cannot be unseen

Looking through my windows

I see hope and despair
I see bloodletting
When will all these end
I see life at its most beautiful
At its most vulnerable
At its most darkest

I see life and its sharp contrasts
Love and hatred
Peace and dissensions
I see traces of man’s humanity to man
Then comes the relapses
A momentary weakening

Looking through my windows

I see madness and tyranny
But all hope’s not lost
I see man holding out for a hero
Someone to come save them
I see that life can be tough
And only the tough get what it wants out of it
I see that if you work hard enough

Dreams can be fulfilled
Life’s what you make of it
Getting out what you put in it
In the face of it all
I see man’s relentlessness
And unflinching tenacity in not letting go
Not giving up

Looking through my windows

Daily see me the traffic of human feet
Endlessly pound the dusty street
On its way to begin yet another hustle
The sun shining indiscriminately on all
Our meaningless and not so meaningless activities
People scurrying like ants
I see man’s unfettered hope for a better tomorrow
In the  face of adversities

†††*dedicated to the victims of Boko Haram.

The menace of boko haram's become a thorn in our sides. Like a snake, it's refused to die until it's head's cut off. I dunno what to say, I'm saddened. I'm saddened.

Monday Moaners Club (MMC): Rhetorics

"Workers welcome Mondays, false. Abi it is Monday who welcomes workers. Workers despise Mondays, fact." That was Ochuko's rather confusing welcome back to work opening remarks as he propped his feet on an empty chair and leaned back with his hands behind his head.

Whenever Ochuko adopted that pose, you knew what was coming; a lecture on one of his many convoluted essays and this time, it was about his favourite topic, Monday vs. The Worker with Monday being his least favourite of days. He was going to share some deep seated secrets which we frail humans alas knew nothing of.

This time was different however, I was ready for Ochuko for I had come with a weapon - a secret weapon - to shut him up once and for all.

"What is it about Mondays that make me want to pull my hair out?" He asks. The question itself aimed at no one in particular. Bimpe nudges me with her foot (the office gossip), I pretend not to notice. I was in no mood for mindless chit-chat.

"Again I ask, why's Monday so cruel? I work like an Elephant yet eat like an Ant, why?"

Poor guy, he must have really had it rough over the weekend. Word in the grapevine had it that his ex wife was out to milk him dry but what had that got anything to do with Monday I wondered.

I seemed to be the only one disturbed. I look around the office to note who was there and who wasn't; Ainkai 'rabbit', Bole the 'boulder', myself and Bimpe. Where was Sempei (gossip no.2)? Aww, she would hate to miss out on this. No wonder Bimpe wanted recruiting me, the snitch. They all seemed not to notice Ochuko so it was up to me to hush him up; good thing I had come prepared abi?

"Erm Ochuko," I begin, "if you've got something to say, say it and stop disturbing our ears. Is it Monday you're mad at or your wife, which?"

Too late, I immediately sense the temperature drop in the room. The words were already out there, I couldn't take them back. Anyone who knew Ochuko knew how he felt about his ex wife. It was an open secret, you knew but pretended not to know, that is, until today. I sight rabbit shake her head, wrong move it seemed to say. Well, there was no going back, let the anger games begin I sing song in my head as I brace up.

Ochuko eyes the young lady seated opposite him warily like a Lion eyes a porcupine; to pounce or not to pounce. He couldn't afford another scenario like that of last week, he doubted management would be lenient with him this time around. If only you knew my story lady, he thinks, you'd judge me less harshly. His Mondays had always been ill favoured, cursed if you like. He knew this and saw it as his cross to bear, his alone.

Ztembe: That was below the belt I know but it worked didn't it?

                                                            **********

Hi people, that's a taste of what I'm dubbing Monday Moaners Club (MMC). It'll be a series of short - really short - stories loosely based on the grief all some of us seem to feel whenever Monday rolls round armed with tons of work, lol, no one's left out in its books.  I've seen, heard and picked up a lot about this fella (Monday), he sure has a lot of 'frenemies'. I usually shy away from writing prose but for the sake of some persons, I'll try. Let's call this an experimental project shall we?😁

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Tale of an Ant: The Bodstacle

Once a heavy body twice removed laid down to slumber and slept deeply. Too deeply Antu thought as he watched from a safe distance, peeping intermittently from a watcher's hole he had setup when he noticed the body lay directly across his path.

What to do, what to do he thought and then he decided. Sleep on body, for it is night when all men must sleep to rise at first dawn. Some take the deep sleep never to awake, you shall awake but in pain. At least, that’s what I think he thought because you see, I was another watcher involved in the watcher’s games. Only I was aware of my presence and watched both watcher (Antu) and watchee (sleeping bod).

The long night passed on slowly, too slow for Antu as his frequent peeps became more hurried and less discreet. He watched with growing dismay as the night skyline lightened, gold tinged by the sun’s first rays yet, there was not a movement of the muscles from the prone body. It lay there, seemingly dead to the world. “But it is dawn,” cried Antu. He always did wake up with the sun and expected the body to do likewise. The more darkness gave way, the more Antu despaired for he had really believed that all bodies arose with dawn’s first light as his grandmother had once told him. In her tales, all bodies rose with the sun.

At this point, I feel I should describe Antu. A young ant in his first stages, no different from his peers but he was much smaller. According to his grandma, he was nearly eaten by a grasshopper as a baby and fell in the struggle that ensued. As stories go however, he didn’t believe one bit of it as he saw himself as special and favored (touched if you like). This would be his first time stepping out of the Chantill, a large mound of a mansion and all at the dare of the young ‘uns.

He is lightly marked unlike the darker markings of his order, this he attributes to the ‘touch’. His head’s slightly disproportionate to his body giving him a strange look which only endeared him to the Antlies- Fantu in particular.

Ah…Fantu. Thinking of her made his fluids to juice. What would he do without her? For it was because of her he had maintained this vigil. Usually in such cases, he would have long passed over and continued his search and where there seemed to be no way, he created one for himself or if need be, put his stingers to use but not this time. He wanted, no, needed to see that bod rise of its own accord. And so he patiently or impatiently as the case may be, waited. Only when it was fully bright did he decide that he had waited long enough and so it was with fire in his fluids and a cry in his heart that he rushed towards the bodstacle and stung.

It all happened too quickly but in all these, the watcher of both had drawn his conclusions.

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A Day at The Police Station

"How did you find yourself here Linda?" I asked myself. There was no inkling whatsoever that the day would turn out the way it did. I had just finished screaming TGIF when it happened, my phone was missing. I searched around and asked questions hoping someone was trying to prank me (as usual). After series of negative responses, I had to face it, my phone was missing. This led me to pull a Sherlock Holmes, retrace my last activities. When last did I use it and where did I place it afterwards?

One reenactment after another, I realized it didn't even make it to the office with me. Where did I miss it? That was when it dawned on me that not only was my phone missing but my purse as well and it's entire contents because you see, I had taken a selfie just outside my house and had hurriedly pursed it and the said purse shoved into an already bulging bag filled with odds and ends.

With so many important items in that purse, I didn't hesitate to report it at the nearest police station and that was how I found myself in a Police Station, whew.

I got you right?😂

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