Tuesday June 04
2013
The cold is killing me. This weather for two isn’t “werking”
for me at the moment. I got drenched last night before I reached home. My sweet
skinny frame is graciously built with very little subcutaneous fat, I’m at a
loss at cushioning my body against cold. My body just absorbs cold easily like
it gets paid a fortune to do so. I did my rituals and was gradually getting ready
for work when my instinct asked me to go out.
I saw a workman fumigating the passage. That must be Tony
my landlord doing this household fumigation. Note that my landlord is a bona fide tenant in the
compound, he only sublet the back part of his flat. The workman went downstairs
and was fumigating odd places where mosquitoes are prone, also they are places
Tony would never touch before. I called the guy, it seems like you are
fumigating the whole compound today. Why don’t you fumigate my room specially?
Dude asked me to pay N1000. I'm like seriously? I know this is his side money.
We haggled down like men to N500. The man came back upstairs to my room with
his tools. It was pay-before-service before he did anything.
I hadn’t taken my birth then, bad mistake. Well I didn't
have a choice or something. The toxic fume took over as expected. I felt a bit
woozy and headache. I hurriedly dressed and left the toxic room. The toxic fume
smell was all over me. It even over powered my cologne. I continued to feel
light-headed. I got to work late. Meanwhile my boss called and sent a text when
I was taking my bath which I didn’t reply until I boarded a bus to the office.
He noticed the smell of toxic fume on me. That proved beyond reasonable and
unreasonable doubt that I wasn’t lying. I paid for the tickets I booked
yesterday. Put some money in my account. I got some food but still unable to do
the police errand for Victory. Mehn, at the rate things are going will I ever
have the opportunity to do it for him? I wonder. He called to let him know.
My instinct told me that Amara will come to the house to
cook this evening and I need to warn her about the toxic fumes. If I let her
know before hand, then she can be extra careful when preparing food in that
environment. I had another thought, I shouldn’t bother with that definitely
she’ll smell the notorious toxic fumes or see telltale sign of it. Yahya is
back in town. He went to Beirut for a surgical operation on his leg. Imagine
going to the gym to stay fit and coming with a shattered leg, it was a terrible
accident. His right foot was bandaged up. Ifeanyi didn’t show up. Yesterday he
just breezed in to say hi and breezed out.
My boss divided the PPM and worked on it while I worked
on the presentation. The presentation is being modified almost every day to, he
is not satisfied yet. Plus there are some really difficult to sought data that
needs to go into the presentation. Lately I’ve been making remarkable progress
on the thing. I need to call my father. I haven’t spoken to him in a while now.
I put some post on my blog. We toiled until after seven o’clock before I went
home.
I stopped briefly at Igbo Efon to see Caesar and Doc. I
told Caesar the latest in accommodation palaver and he reiterated his resolve
never to shelter anyone again in his one room self-contain unless it’s a bigger
apartment with many rooms. He has gotten burnt a couple of times doing that.
I Need A Mental Fumigation To Rid My Mind Of
Rodent And Pest Thoughts So I Can Have A Healthy Focus.
The toxic fume still hovered faintly in the room. My
instinct was proved right once again when I got home. Amara indeed came around
and she cooked jollof rice. My portion was in the pot as usual. I didn’t eat. I
didn’t quite feel hungry. I went to straight to bed
