It's extremely quiet this morning and as usual, I wake up to the sound of that annoying cock crowing endlessly. It's guttural cry to impress some silly hen in one corner waiting and watching. And who are the casualties in this kingdom called sleep? We helpless humans that noise and cries disturb and can't return to. At least not until the next day. This cock has been my official alarm clock, since I decided to stay at my parents house. It's been annoying three days of waking up a lazy maid. She sleeps until seven and some more from nine in the morning until one in the afternoon. That is unbelievable but true, is it work ethics have dwindled drastically. The interesting part is she keeps counting the days to her return home. I could not help but tell her to add the thirteen hours she sleeps daily. And what did she do? She laughed it up and continues to count the days. Maybe my parents are old, but it's a lot of nonsense they keep up with. I had to remind her that she is a quarter my dad's age and he is retired. It's too early for her to be so laid back in life. Did she listen? Yes, by adding another hour to her sleep routine. Well, like they say. Everything is a trap and every routine sealed by twenty eight days. My parents have the luxury to catch up and talk and socialize after more than eighty years of working. Well in her line of work, it seems the maid gets away with all that sleep because my parents are private people. I just happened to work in the living room and witness the maids sleeping habits. It only makes me reevaluate my own life and decide to do so much more with my time and life. And since today is the day I go back home, it starts now.
The Silence this Thursday morning is broken by three pigeons, hooting and competing for airwaves dominance. Funny enough, the sound they make I always thought owls would make, only it's faster and more upbeat. I wonder what the pigeons are saying and if it's just for the ears of their life partners.
I am back home now and can smell the mold from the lack of air circulating this raining season. If I have had sex this year I would have said I was pregnant. I can smell and taste everything and a wrenching sound escapes my mouth. I cringe and jerk and should have thrown up but nothing.
I don't know what's wrong with me but I know I need to check. I get ready to go to work and feel the bottom quarter of my lungs ache. I hope it's not pnemonia, how does one get one pnemonia self?
I am exhausted and don't want to get up and enjoy my back resting on my semi soft bed.
I think the almost two weeks of rain fall, has messed up my lungs. I am not wheezing or coughing regularly, just sudden jabs and episodes. I whip out my antihistamine tablets and wonder if I abuse these medications.
Maybe it's worms or too much liquid in my stomach. I just know I need professional opinion. My account balance has dwindled and even the thought of going to the hospital annoys me. But it's time and this weather isn't helping.
Lord please don't let it rain.
I dress up and decide to go to the hospital, it's time. But the smell of freshly cut grass and generator fumes send me back into my house.
I need at least a slice from that delicious marble cake I made. I stare at the beautiful work of art and place it in the stainless steel tray much older than I am. Passed on to me by my sweet loving mother.
I can't wait to pass on my own gifts to my daughter.
Did I mention that I want a family now? Yes I do, I feel like it's time. No sentiments or emotional blackmail needed. I just want the entire family unit. A part of me wants to call Daniel and tell him, let's do it
Just, go to the nearest registry, call two witnesses and it is done.
But not with Daniel Ojora, maybe on my trip to Paris in January with Alan.
I start to cough again and put a tea cup of water on fire. It gets boiled quickly and then I open the kitchen cabinets and realize I am out of tea bags. One more reason to step out and just be out there.
The tea helps and then my phone starts to erupt with social media sounds. At first, I can't be bothered. But then, again... It could be important.
I look at a picture that has gone viral, it's a picture I am tagged in on Facebook.
Sandra has a bump on her head, similar to the one Cardi B had after an altercation with Nicky Minaj.
I swear to God who made me, I did not care to read the contents and drop my phone.
Instead, I bite into the delicious cake soft and succulent and as my teeth sink into it like butter. I chew and let it linger in my mouth.
Thousands of pinging sounds erupt from my phone and I pick it up and stare at my name appear along side Daniel's.
Now I got to read this, I watch in horror as a short video clip of Sandra accusing Daniel and I of assault gets liked a thousand times.
It's climbing by the minute and my phone starts buzzing with calls.
I instinctively, switch off all three phones and exhaled hard and rest my back on the kitchen chair.
The warm water tasted delicious with the cake and I inhale and shut my eyes.
- Why on earth did she wait four days after to react? What kind of fool throws around that kind of accusations. How desperate can a faux friend get?
Here we go again...
**"ADE'S JOURNAL", Season 3, Episode 60**
*"ADE'S JOURNAL", 60, COPYRIGHT 2018*
**BUSOLA ELEGBEDE, COPYRIGHT 2018**
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