Dear Diary
Today wasn’t good at all.
My alarm went off at 4:30 a.m., and I woke up confused. Why was my alarm ringing? I was certain I had set it for 5:30. I checked my phone again, hoping maybe I had somehow misread the time.
Nope. 4:30.
At that point, there was no going back to sleep. I had a headache, my eyes were heavy, and I just lay there on the bed thinking, another morning to go.
I sighed and switched off the alarm.
No messages sent to me personally either.
Hmm.
No surprise there.
I eventually got out of bed and started getting ready. I was ironing my clothes when I managed to burn my favourite shirt.
Then the iron caught fire.
I don’t even know how to properly explain what happened because, honestly, I was more concerned about the fact that I might now have to buy a new pressing iron. And if you know anything about me, you know that unexpected expenses are one of the fastest ways to ruin my mood.
So I found another shirt.
The shirt looked like something I had borrowed from somebody, but at that point, I had no business being picky. I put it on and left.
I was already preparing myself mentally for Lagos transportation. You know that moment when you’re leaving the house, and you’re calculating the number of buses you’re going to enter, how much each one will cost, where you’ll have to trek, and whether you’ll get a seat?
Surprisingly, Lagos behaved.
I got the buses I needed on time and eventually reached my last bus stop.
Then I saw a woman selling food at CMS.
And the food smelled good.
Very good.
I had been craving local food for a while, so for once, I decided not to pretend I was disciplined. I bought white rice, plantain and fried fish.
I couldn’t wait to eat it.
Unfortunately, my happiness lasted for approximately five minutes.
I walked to where I would get my last bus to work, entered the bus and settled in.
Then my pants tore.
My pants tore.
Inside the bus.
I genuinely wanted to cry.
Not because a pair of pants tore. Okay, partly because of that. But mostly because it felt like the universe had decided that I had not suffered enough that morning.
I was already tired. I had a headache. I had burnt my favourite shirt. My iron had almost died in the line of duty. I was thinking about work.
And now my pants tore.
Nobody even said sorry.
Nobody.
I just sat there feeling sad and angry while trying to make my face look normal. You know that thing where you’re upset, but you don’t want strangers to know you’re upset, so you just squeeze your face into a neutral expression and pretend everything is fine?
Yes. I did that.
Then I found myself sitting between three buffoons who had apparently decided that their laps needed more space than mine.
They widened their legs and left me with barely enough room to exist.
I looked at them.
Get Abisola’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
They looked comfortable.
I decided I could also be foolish.
So I widened my legs too.
Thankfully, they adjusted.
Sometimes, you just have to speak the language people understand.
By the time I got to the office, I had already used up a reasonable amount of my emotional energy for the day.
I prayed that work would at least be kind to me.
It wasn’t.
I started with the pending tasks from yesterday, then today’s tasks, then the deliverables I hadn’t finished. There was also one particular task I had been avoiding because I already knew it would drain whatever was left of my brain.
I eventually did it.
And surprisingly, my manager liked it.
I won’t lie, that lifted my mood.
It is funny how one person saying “this is good” can suddenly make you forget that you spent the morning fighting an iron and your trousers betrayed you on public transportation.
Later, my landlady sent me a message asking me to come home because apparently I had left the tap running.
I hadn’t.
But anyway.
It was one of those random house emergencies that immediately makes you start calculating money you don’t even have.
What if something is broken?
What if I have to pay for it?
What if this becomes an expense?
I hate unexpected expenses.
I had ofada rice for lunch but couldn’t finish it. By then, I was already tired and just wanted the day to end.
I continued working anyway.
At some point, I went on Twitter and started reading the day’s gist. That was probably one of the few things that genuinely made me laugh.
Eventually, I started packing up.
I had had enough.
I left the office sometime after 6 and, because Lagos apparently wasn’t finished with me, I didn’t get home until after 8.
I got home.
There was no food.
Of course.
I was already knackered, but I still had to go and check what was wrong with the plumbing.
At that point, I didn’t even have the energy to be angry anymore.
So, today’s rating?
5/10.
It wasn’t the worst day I’ve ever had.
It wasn’t a good day either.
It was just one of those days where several mildly irritating things happen one after another until you get home and wonder why you couldn’t have just stayed in bed.
Anyway.
Till tomorrow, we go again.
