As the last weekend of my month long vacation approached, I couldn't help feeling a little nostalgic.
I mean I love vacationing. I also love living as if I'm some independently wealthy wife of an oil magnate or a grown ass IG influencer. Unfortunately, I'm none of these things. I'm not that person, I crave to feed my intellect. Wouldn't life be easier if I was? Alas, things are not that easy. There's a need to get back into the swing of things so my brain doesn't turn to mush, and most importantly, so I can recoup all the money that I've lavished on good food - extra long boozy lunches - home renovations, and personal look upgrade.
When they said Anita you'll have to vacation the entire month of July in Lagos I thought oh why, July is such a long month, all 31 days of it, what would I do with myself, what is there to do? But God and the cherubic celestial forces found some way to keep me busy. There was an entire week all I did was fix technical issues in my flat from plumbing to air-conditioning (which found the opportune time to develop an unknown fault) to painting. I had planned on going to the beach that week but my technical issues said, no can do, young lady, we needa fixin'.
Then, I turned around and the month was done. It was over. I was on the last leg and I had to wrap up - all my dry-cleaning, my house chores, everything - to get back into the hustle and bustle.
As I sit at work, fighting the weight gain, I chuckle to myself with the realization that it was a good time. It felt good to take that time to myself. The food, the GLORIOUS exotic lavish food, so good. Would it have felt better if I had traveled? I don't know. I would think so. But for now. Attending to some matters at home felt good, felt very adulting, as opposed to pushing them aside for the next couple of months and the next couple of months, you know. It felt very mature. It also felt wickedly awesome to just be. Be. For once.
To some of my most blissful afternoons spent doing nothing...
Then, I turned around and the month was done. It was over. I was on the last leg and I had to wrap up - all my dry-cleaning, my house chores, everything - to get back into the hustle and bustle.
As I sit at work, fighting the weight gain, I chuckle to myself with the realization that it was a good time. It felt good to take that time to myself. The food, the GLORIOUS exotic lavish food, so good. Would it have felt better if I had traveled? I don't know. I would think so. But for now. Attending to some matters at home felt good, felt very adulting, as opposed to pushing them aside for the next couple of months and the next couple of months, you know. It felt very mature. It also felt wickedly awesome to just be. Be. For once.
To some of my most blissful afternoons spent doing nothing...
