Eat Dessert First

My friend from Nigeria called me one morning at 6am. 

She has a hunky husband and an adorable baby girl. She's bored with life, nothing to do except mind the job, the husband and the baby. Nothing else. Sometimes I wonder why married women tell us these stories. As if to say, "I wish I were you." You, with all the time on your hands, the freedom, the no-schedule, no commitments. You. The Single Person. But you have no idea what I am doing? 

It just made me think of something that my mum used to say to my brother right before he got married: Have all the fun now, with the women, the booze, everything because one day the music will stop. As it was said in one of the books I am reading: Eat Dessert First. And I'll like to add: Make sure it's a wicked dessert too. 

A basic fact of life is that when we make certain commitments to ourselves, the truest test of our strength isn't only based on the initial step, but rather the strength of our endurance to see those commitments through till the end and to get the most out of our experiences while they're happening. The whole of the big picture requires certain sacrifices and those sacrifices play an integral part on making the final destination worth every step.
--- Excerpt from a very informative article.

Been out of focus. But I'm back now. #AnitaWrites

Battle of The Bastards

I've been missing The Bastard.

As Bastards come...this one kinda stuck.
With Me.
In Me.
I promised myself I'd never again write about him.
He doesn't matter he who thinks you don't matter.
So I let it dissipate. Like that gust of wind that ushers in the Fall.
In the fictional Battle of the Bastards
The good, upright, noble, brooding, often handsome Bastard won.
In our battle...all that's left is the cold empty air.
Even the pin would choose to drop elsewhere.
Somewhere less quiet, sterile, more woke, more sublime.
Dear Bastard...when you love as you most often do.
Hope it's nothing quite as warm, dear and riotous as me.
So you can miss me quite as much as I do you.

Life of a Blogger and Lawyer

Working and blogging is so hard.

I sneak out time for myself.

Can't imagine doing this married. The marriage will just crumble. Like the stock market.

The last weekend I took out for myself was my birthday weekend. Even at that it was hard. So hard. Normally if my birthday is on a Monday I'd be gone from Thursday. I had to leave on the Saturday. Even at that it was still hard to tear away. "Umbrella group" intended to file a joint action against the government and the suit itself was filed on my birthday...June 6. So we had to put the pieces in place that weekend.

I already knew about it as it had slowly bubbled over the preceding weeks but as it came to a head that weekend I had to break away, I was like "Yo, I know this ish is going down but I only turn 42 once in a lifetime so forgive me if I want to have one weekend where I pretend not to give a shit."

Folks were asking so why didn't you travel, why did you sit and dine solo on your birthday, which was sad, cos 42 is such a great sounding number. I kept thinking: Girl it was hard to just have this one 24 hours to myself, where else could I go with just 24 hours. Don't know...had to make it the best I could. Midnight, I still had to review the lawsuit...is that grown up enough for you?