Tag Archives: ntss!

Being An Adult…

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… kind of sucks and is highly overrated. As with most things we wait impatiently for in life, it just does not live up to its hype. I remember as a kid, begrudgingly complying with whatever a grown-up had told me to do, I would swear under my breath and think I could not wait for when I was a grown up too, bossing people around and not having to play nice/go to bed early/ wear the frilly dress and not the jeans/go to school, etc.

I just didn’t think I would have to boss myself around; or at least I didn’t think it would be this hard. The problem mostly is that somewhere along the way I became a serial procrastinator and managed to convince myself that as long as everything gets done eventually, it’s okay to slack off here and there.

Here I am, a 20-something grown-ass person with Important Adult Things to do, but somehow, I find ways to avoid said responsibilities. I’ll need to return phonecalls and emails, and find myself blogging or facebooking. Pending trip to the bank? I am derailed by a shiny book display along the way. I promise to contribute to people’s lives in positive ways (donations and other activities), and I slack off. Friends’ wedding meetings, and I magically find myself sitting in my favorite bar, drinking and watching a game.

I even have a Procrastination Spiral. (I have a lot of Spirals, e.g. Sneaky Hate Spiral). Something Important comes up. I know I have to do it, but I put it off for what seems like a reasonable time (an hour, half a day) promising to get it done as soon as I have eaten this sandwich, bought some airtime, listened to this album … or some such trivial but seemingly-LifeandDeath-at-the-time activity. Finish activity. Important Thing rears its head, bellowing for my attention. By now, I am feeling a lot guilty and I resolve to do it. I get started, but I am consumed by self-loathing and disgust at my laziness and I put it off until I’m “feeling better”.

I am an adult, and yet I still need to grow the fuck up. Urgh.

Allie, my favorite blogger, illustrates it thus:

How do I stop being such a slacker?

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Of shockers and fickle fans

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Since I last posted, Cameroon played a dissapointing game, conceding a goal to Japan; Cote d’Ivoire put up a worthy fight against Portugal in a goalless draw; and South Africa surpassed the expectations of even the most cynical naysaying Bafana-hater by playing a dismal 3-0 game with Uruguay.

We get that Uruguay is a pretty good national team. There doesn’t seem to be a South American country that can’t hold its own football-wise.

We get that the South Africans, on the other hand, suck. Only 4 of the players play internationally; they’ve lost several games on the continent; and even the locals don’t take them very seriously, often telling jokes such as:

Virgin wanted to sponsor the team’s uniforms. SAFA refused, saying Bafana can’t wear the word ‘virgin’ when they keep getting f*cked in every game  🙂

But no one could have seen yesterday’s Epic Fail coming. It’s funny just the other day I enthused to someone about loving the unpredictability of football so much. Heh. And now there they are, Khune-less, Pienaar-less, quite possibly Parriera-less, and deserted by many less loyal fans. And up against France, to boot.

Me, I have jumped the South Africa ship, along with all the other fans who put their vuvuzelas down and walked out of the stadium. No doubt. I can’t help feeling sorry for the host nation – with numerous complaints from international players about the vuvuzela noise, about the sub-standard Jabulani ball, and now this? The ke nako! slogan almost seems like a sad mockery!

But I haven’t given up completely – I’m still waving my Ghana and Cote d’Ivoire flags furiously. I don’t expect an African team to win the World Cup, but we are going to give the others a run for it!

Irritable

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I like to consider myself even-tempered. Aside from the somewhat-frequent occasional  gin&tonic induced moments of bliss and the odd nervous-breakdown, I have the emotional variation of sand. Today, however, my mind is in a freefall toward murderous rage. I’m not quite there yet (as I write this, I’m somewhere at dark cloud hanging over head, but trying to fight it) and I’m really hoping no unfortunate thing or creature will push me over that precipice.

I woke up happy. I even had a rock-out moment to Plain White Tees with my nephew. Breakfast was good; I actually got to chew and swallow it – usually I have to inhale some juice before running out the door with one shoe on.

So whence did this melancholy descend? It was somewhere around the old taxi park. Some time between trying  to dodge brainless veering bodabodas and taxis while simultaneously trying not to land on my ass on the putrid, slimy, pothole-filled thing that passes for a road. The place smells like chemicals and chickenfeed, you can’t tell where the garbage stops and the road begins and the textile sellers, fruit vendors, serious people like myself and general loafers are all jostling for the same two inches of “clean” walking space. AARGH!!!

I finally reach my destination, or rather, as far as the taxi will take me, and I have to get a boda to work. Something about the way that blockhead rode made me want to crack open his skull and rip out his brains [I think we’re somewhere close to murderous rage now] – unfortunately, he didn’t have any. His contraption kept stopping until I decided I’d get to my office faster if I crawled, so I got off, may or may not have muttered curses his way and walked.

Even my newly compiled 90s playlist didn’t calm me down. Now I’m at work and I’m going to sit quietly and not tempt Fate until the day ends. At least tomorrow’s a holiday. Sigh.