Working Class BABY!!!

Ahhh, my first day at work...what a rush, WHAT. A. RUSH!

I know what you're thinking, what could I, [insert name] be possibly hired for....

well it's a mind blower...wait for it.... RECEPTIONIST... no wait.... SECRETARY.... okay no.... RECEPTIONIST!!!

Yes people upon very high demand for a skilled, witty personality i was of the selected few... Out of all the people in the world, yes me.

How the conversation started:

The Father: you know we don't have a receptionist at the new office. why don't you come and work for us.

Had it not been for us being in the car i probably would have tipped over on my chair. i have been battling boredom for the past weeks and then this is when he is offering it...shame shame...either way I'm on board.

A very excited Me: yes! why not? Really?

The Father: um...

Well....what happened to the faith.... just as a response of today's um... success... = :-p

So while i was seated there, working hard i.e surfing the web, i learnt a few things, very FEW important things:

1. If you arrive at work late...eh...okay

2. By ten o'clock, even if you ate a heavy meal, that don't matter, your stomach will be singing like the mad hatter   Oh Boy! i didn't know where i was going with that!!!

3. Not everyone who comes into the office is a thief in fact 85% of them are there as patients, 14.99%to fix a computer related problem...except the drug reps and the mama who tried to sell me a electric shaver not just offering me one but she said i needed two...at which point i replied in my head but through my eyes, "I WILL CUT YOU!"
...my point is, stop holding your phone as if it's going to walk away...but history tells my reasons

4. You're lunch hour is a hoax it was created to mock you.

5. What happened to the afternoon?

6. You are responsible for a lot of money that you will not see LIKE SOON.

7. Make sure that at no point is the patient helping you with your work...at least make sure the number goes below five next time.

8. You will quickly learn what we call Facebook-Twitter stalking due to unlimited access to Internet...

9. The Internet will fail...but don't worry there are probably 100000000000 people in an IT related field called Ben who will help you, you just have to guess the right one.

10. If you do meet someone who can fix the Internet who is called Ben, make sure his name is not saved under 'Ken the Internet dude' before you ask him what his number is and he sees the phone list. It will get awkward.

I'm just saying apart for the blurry receipt I wrote up, running after that patient to give her her prescription, stamping upside down, almost tripping someone, getting into a small space with a strange guy and wondering where to move, holding in some major gasses....

Yeah apart from that...it was a good day.

I think...after all, i wasn't fired. :-)

Ah, the joys of Mosquitoes

Dear mosquitoes,

Hi. The name’s…well my name is not important. I bet you’d wonder anyways because I can imagine supreme beings like you get names like Sally, Augustus, Tyrone and Post Election Violence, but I’m just going on a whim there.

How are you guys? How is the feeding season? It’s cold but with all the blood you keep SIPHONING, I bet you stay warm. Plus all the exercise, that’s got to count for something. I picture six packs and nicely toned thighs. Tell the overachievers to ease up on the workouts, nobody likes a show off.

Anyways, as you’ve noticed, I talk too much. My parents have not yet tried a facility but I’ll see that they get to my crazy as soon as possible.

I don’t want you to get too attached what with you needing the extra time for dinner and me being an obvious mosquito magnet. It just wouldn’t be fair for any of us.

I’d just like to say something. With you being a creature of God I would like us to dialogue before any blood is shed. Listen, I understand your need to feed on anything that breathes in oxygen and farts out an unknown deadly gas [Gaseous Exchange is what I hear them calling it, I could be wrong].

I’m guessing blood is an acquired taste. Just one request though, even though you are sucking on my blood, or my sister’s blood [I’m happy to offer her up as a sacrifice by the way] it’s nice to be quiet agreeable neighbours.

This may seem a bit harsh to you, some strange, awkwardly cool girl asking you to shut up but seriously, everyone needs a break from the world, so please

“SHUT THE HELL UP, I’M TRYING TO BLOODY SLEEP!”

Yours truly and kindly...

Me.

Uh...so...bye...?

So I was walking [some day] as I always do with my legs... and then I catch up with this girl I used to be in high school with. The thing is I never particularly used to talk to her. She was just that girl in my geography class who slept through most classes and still managed to be the top in our year. I tried that once with one exam and I’m not sure how well I did. I think they withheld my paper for investigation.

Yes, that’s right... I was that good.

Or bad

Or whatever

So I catch up with the girl and we say hi. Have you ever been in that awkward situation when you meet up with someone you barely know? It really is the time you realise that even the right words at that moment would not help the situation be normal.

It’s ten times worse if you are headed in the same direction to the same exact location.

It’s like when you see a bomb and have no idea what to do with it and you throw it at the guy next to you and they throw it back. In a way it’s playing  ‘Hot Potato’ with a bomb that’s about to erupt.

That’s what was happening. So I threw the bomb first.

Me: hi

Her: hey

Me: how’ve you been? [like I give a flying fruit-you know what I mean]

Her: fine. You?

Me: well, you know. [no she doesn’t, you don’t talk at all]

Her: ha. Yeah [you fruiting liar]

Silence.

More silence.

Now this is just awkward.

Me: um...

Her: ha. [what the fruit is funny?]

Me: so why are you headed to your room?

Her: oh, I just didn’t feel like attending class anymore.

This is the part I don’t get. When people are in uncomfortable situations they shut up. I on the other hand feel the need to share, to FRUITING share...

Me: [even though she doesn’t ask] oh, I forgot my book and so I decided since I’ve already signed the register it wouldn’t be too bad skipping class because I’ll just get the notes and read through them. Besides I even left my book in my room and I wouldn’t have even been listening because I’ve been distracted for the last few weeks not even sure by what but I think I’ll be able to get over it by the time exams roll by because I’m not going to let anything distract me because... [yeah that’s right, go ahead and tell her you’re going to take a dump and don’t forget to get her number in case you want to text her the size, shape and colour of what comes out in the toilet How I met your mother style].

Her: oh okay

Me: yeah

Silence.

More silence.

Please don’t try to fill up the silence Wairimu you’ll get us both into trouble.

I can’t possibly listen to myself; I talk a lot of sugar.

Me: so did you hear about the watchman almost getting arrested because he deflated someone’s tires and it was a visitor and the visitor called the cops but he didn’t get fired because some lawyer dude decided he was too good at his job even with all his made up rules because you know how some watchmen can make up their own rules...no? Okay, he made up his own rules and the cops told him to just fix the tires which I thought was just lazy because I could have done that myself had I been caught in the crossfire of it all.

I think at this point, the bomb is about to explode and I am using gossip to reel the conversation to level ground.

Her eyes perk up.

One for Wairimu; zero for awkward situations.

Her: really? That guy should just be fired.

Me: yeah [what an anti climax]

Silence

More silence

Oh yay, we are almost there.

Well, this is good, really good. We both stand at our bedroom doors.

Me: uh...so bye.

Open the door quickly as if I’m being chased by a lion...oh that’s not right... I mean like a bomb is about to blow and take cover within the confines of my room. I breathe out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding and hear the timer stop.

One second more and I would have been in a pile of myself and I think one of me is enough for the world to handle.

Revenge of the deadly

You guys won’t believe this but I was attacked... BY A MUTANT INSECT.

Okay, not so much a mutant insect but at the time it was as close as can get.

It was the day after my article on the bee that couldn’t fly, when I walked into the kitchen for midnight snack, at ten.

Little did I know that there was something waiting for me, something heinous, and something... out of this world.

Anyway, I’m skipping along probably singing at the top of my lungs like I do when I enter the store and bam! In front of me is one of those fat hairy caterpillars that are rumoured to cause rashes if they touch you. Naturally, I check for any exposed skin and right there are my innocent toes.

I instantly think back to the dead bee. Oh wait what was its name? Dumb, right.

If you’re normal you get how the two events are completely linked.

I decide I need calvary.

Me: daaaaaaaaad!!!

No answer, maybe they’ve gotten to him.

Me: daaaaaaad!!!!

Dad: yes wa?

Me: phew you’re safe.

Dad: what?

Me: I mean come and see! Come and see!

Dad: what is it?

Me: you have to come and see.

Silence

Me: daaaaaaaad!!!

Dad: okay I’m coming.

He’s not even in a hurry. I am being attacked by a caterpillar and he’s not even in a hurry. He shuffles towards me from the television room. He doesn’t even reach the kitchen before he decides to turn back. That’s after I’ve told him what the danger is.

Me: wait! You have to kill it!

Dad: leave it alone. Twain, will kill it.

Me: what? What if it comes upstairs and eats me instead, the caterpillar that is?

Dad: too bad.

My mouth drops. At the time you would think that it’s because of my father’s lack of concern over my obviously shaken state but I kid you not, it is not. Just at that moment, I notice that the caterpillar has a moth stuck to its body. It’s like they knew I was coming and so sent an extra pair of eyes to create an ultra insect. It’s like power rangers when they take all the rangers’ animals, put them together and form one big fighter robot.

Me: dad, it has two heads.

Dad: okay.

That’s just wrong. When your daughter tells you something has two heads, it’s probably best you find out what...

Quickly abandoning my midnight snack I race upstairs and ran to my mother whose ability to scare easily may make my father’s love for her spark him into action.

She’s in the shower so I have to shout through the door and doesn’t she hate that.

Me: muuuuuuuuuuuum!!!!

Mum: Wa, what is it??

Me: I’ve been attacked.

Mum: by what now?

Me: it was so scary.

Mum: eeeeh, what was it?

Ha, ha! Success!

Me: a caterpillar with the head of a moth.

Mum: ah, what is that?

Me: a HAIRY caterpillar with the head of a moth.

Emphasised words make all the difference.

Mum: ah, just that.

Just that? Just that? Does nobody understand the trauma that that can cause? It’s the equivalent of walking right into a hive of bees, theoretically of course. I think.

Me: mum, it was after me.

Mum: Wairimu get serious I am trying to shower.

Me: well, if I do say so myself.

Of course I never see the thing again because I am cautious enough not to go downstairs unless three things are happening:

1.  I am being attacked by something upstairs

2.  I am hungry to the point that I have imagined eating my teddy bears

3.  I didn’t have a third reason to make up on such short notice.

But just know one thing, when being attacked by any insect in the house, unless you are my mother who will scream until the neighbours wake up, do not call for help. Suck it in and let it pass.

In memory of Dumb... R.I.P

Today I watched a bee die in my room.

It flew in at first all high and mighty.

That’s when I screamed, ‘noooooooooooooo,’ because I hate the sound that bees make when they are in the room. 

Of course no one came to my rescue despite my brother and sister both being present at the time. They claim to love me some days by saying stuff like:

Brother: I’m your favourite brother

Sister: Admit it, you looove me.

At which point I look at them and say, respectively:

Me: You’re my only brother.

Me: Never! :p

Then again, I take what I can get.

Anyway, while I was screaming and fearing my very life because of the sight of the bee and also while nobody was saving my life, the bee flew to the window. 

Except it must have missed the part in our primary science lesson when we were told that windows are transparent and that animals do not have the ability to walk through other solid objects, or fly either. 

So now it’s hitting the window countless times because its brains are not working. The hitting is making the noise even more unbearable and it is distracting me from my couch potato antics of sitting and watching stuff on my bed.

I scream out in anger:

Me: you’re dumb

Dumb bee: bzzzzzzzz...

I walk away before the argument becomes heated. When I come back to my room, it’s now fallen onto the window sill, still buzzing away.

Have you ever tried killing an ant by dropping it from a high surface? Have you noticed it never dies? Am I the only one who has ever tried to fake an ant’s suicide? Don’t mind me, I really hate ants.

Mr. Bee, is trying to get on its feet and it looks positively sad... and pathetic.

Me: how is it you have wings and you fell? You fell!

Dumb bee: bzzzzzzz

Me: oh so do you want my help or are you going to continue being rude?

I think about giving the bee some help, you know all creatures of the world... blah.

Then I think about all the things that have happened to me so far in life:

Ants

Wasp attack 1

Wasp attack 2

Wasp attack 3 [deluxe edition]

That time my cousin was attacked by a wasp.

That time my cousin was stung by a bee and instead of running for help he ran around the compound shouting ‘BEE’ in both English and Kiswahili as if that was going to help him. We stood there and laughed at him instead of helping so I guess it was win: win. Or...

That time my friends all ran away from a sausage fly in primary and they stepped on me.

That time my friends all ran away from a moth in class and they tore my book.

That time my friends all ran away from a flying termite in high school and they stepped on me, dropped some chairs, ruined other peoples bags and caused fracas during a lesson. This was actually really funny!

That time when someone I know was attacked by a bee and I laughed at him and then one week later I was attacked by a bee. Karma

I came to a healthy conclusion after reminiscing over some of the good times with family and friends and decided that I wasn’t going to help said bee up. I mean if I did extend my hand of kindness would it make sure I delivered a bunch of flowers to some parade of flowers so that we can save the rest of its family...wait that’s the plot of that movie ‘Bee Movie’.

Did I even get the it right?

Anyways, what I meant to say was, would it promise to leave me and the rest of my family and friends alone for eternity?

No because you know what? BEES CAN’T NEGOTIATE!!!

Or talk.

BEES CAN’T TALK OR NEGOTIATE!

And so, I left it to wriggle. No I literally left. I wanted to go watch cartoons downstairs.

When I came back though I found the dead bee on my window sill. I’m not sure what to do. Throwing it out seems like it wouldn’t have a good send off. Of course I did just let it die there. So I’m writing a eulogy:

'Bee, was named Dumb. He lived a good life outside these walls and though no pictures of him exist, he shall be missed. Bee, if only you’d just flown out the window you’d come in through. Thank you.

Okay, I lied he or she shall not be missed.'

I’m sleepy...

Goodnight bee

oh wait you're dead.

I can't turn off my thoughts...

Yesterday I watched something and I get weird when I watch something and I start thinking about it's possibilities.

Like what if I woke up one day and half my body was a food? What would I do? Would I eat myself?

I'm thinking with my track record of doing things to see what they feel like, yes I would eat myself. I'm the person who sees the sign, DANGER! DO NOT DRINK and I feel compelled to just have a sip.

I mean what's the worst that could happen?

Imminent death i guess... well that doesn't sound good...hold on a second while I go to the bathroom. There's something I ate... and gave the dog...

I'm kidding... or am I?

But you know what, it would also depend on the food I woke up as.

Like there are certain things I just can't stomach.

Sushi for example...trying that stuff made me want to slit my tongue because it had been tainted. But who would curse me with the painful fate of waking up and finding out that I was half a raw fish? Really? And what would I get the upper half of my body, or lower half? Or would it be down to left and right?

Then because I don't like the taste of sushi, I wouldn't be able to eat myself therefore having to walk the streets of Nairobi smelling like something the cat dragged in if we lived near a lake and the cat could swim and catch it's own fish and be able to hold off on it's hunger until it dragged the fish into the house.

But what if I woke up as a burger or a slice of pizza... mmm let's not lie. I would eat myself because I imagine myself would be really tasty. I would ignore my inner voice and the pain that comes with gobbling down oneself and make sure that I am satisfied.

Of course if that very half that I'm eating should include my stomach... I'm screwed.

OH SH....

I just realized something very crucial I hadn't thought of when I started this... what if the half that I want to eat includes my mouth???? How will I eat myself??? HOW????!!!!

Unless the food is still shaped in the same way as an actual human body...then that might work but that's MIGHT!! My teeth may not be as strong if they are made out of food...

Is there a psychological reason as to why someone might consider eating themselves?

Anyways... I think too much.

I can't turn my thoughts off, they are where the words go when I shut up...

Today's Monday blues...

I'm sick and it feels like my throat wants to explode and i'm going through the process with my parents but this time i just shortened it and told them exactly what's going on. you know i'm not even home just chilling at my best friend's who has exams and since i can't talk, i've decided that endless ranting to you guys is the best idea.

If you'd seen me yesterday you wouldn't think i was the same person. i was running around, jumping up and down like a dog on heat...maybe not a dog, maybe certain people when under the influence. i won't mention names because they know themselves. 

I am now not going to deny or agree [is that grammatical?] that my friends drink like mad men and women but they do...or don't. whatever.

Eee [completely real expression], i just tried talking and i sound like someone kicked me in the throat. it's not sexy...it's sexier... puha....

oh my gosh my dad just texted me. He just wants to know what meds i need... too much progress.

Mother remains silent. 

If you have no idea what I'm talking about just check out this link: When it comes to sick days

I want to send my father that very same email.

Okay so i realize so far that i have not made sense and I am sorry. it's hard to think when your head is pounding. i don't even have enough energy to re read this. i even had to use this weird font. what is it called... Helvatica... that sounds like a cheese... Does it sound like a cheese?

I think so Wairimu.

Thank you Wairimu.

Myself is always right.

I'm even watching news now... I must be sick... like really sick.

News?

Oh, Helvatica.... I think I want that to be my new expression. like...

Random person concerned with my health: hey Wa...

Me: 'sup

Random person concerned with my health: How are you feeling??

Me: Helvatica!

Random person concerned with my health: huh?

Me: yeah you're right it will never stick. damn.

\\\\\\\\\\\ how comes on my laptop when i press that button it doesn't slash! oooh...i have to show you what it does when i get home...

And now i'm just staring at my screen. 

And now i'm wondering why i said that.

And now i'm bored because certain people have to learn and have left me alone in the comfort of their room to release gas as much as I want. I will do just that...  [for future husband, i'm sorry you had to read that]

What's Paralympics?

i need a phone that has internet... that's right mine sucks... best feature: FM radio. I'm in the abc age... yeah....okay i tried taking a webcam photo of my phone but i have no idea what's happening...

Paralympics: An international athletic competition for disabled athletes.

I should have known that

Now look I've lost Helvatica...too tired to get it back.

I need to go so...

yeah[the ending of all good speeches]

Random thought process initiated

Apparently this is what I think about at 4am.

You know what would be awkward, if your friend invited you for a party at her place and then you decided to take a dump during the whole shindig and you ran out of tissue paper mid process and there’s no extra roll. So you are seated there in the toilet panic mode on and you can’t get out.

Meanwhile, the party is on people are screaming and having fun. Then suddenly there is a knock on the door. You can tell that it’s that guy or girl that you like asking to be let in because they want to use the facilities. Now it’s really awkward. Ha ha... so you shout back muffling your voice with the end of your sleeve, if you’re wearing long sleeves, “give me a second.”

If you're not wearing the sleeves, that sucks...

And then the music dies down and you hear someone ask, “Where’s Nani?” Nani being you, you curse the gods for being so cruel especially when someone else says, “she/he said she/he was going to the loo.”

Then there’s a knock on your door again and someone asks, “Nani, are you in the loo?”

Throw caution to wind. “Yes, I need toilet paper. It ishad.”

“It’s underneath the sink, in the cabinet.”

“Right, I knew that.”

This has never actually happened to me but knowing my luck this probably will happen to me or any of my close friends so a warning to all the people i know. i hear bad luck is contagious.

Just kidding

No I’m not.

Who the hell is Opicho?

I hate being woken up. I am not a smiley wakey person. I used to get mad at my best friend in school and snap at her whenever she woke me up even though the night before I had specifically asked her to.

I had to come up with a system when I was younger, where before my dad woke me up, I would get up, get dressed then go back to sleep in my uniform that way when he came I would snap to attention, answer him and then go back to sleep. It was all good while it lasted.

Not that my sister or mother are any better. My sister used to drag her duvet to the bathroom and sleep in the bathtub and I can’t even begin to explain my mother’s waking up process.

The one thing I do hate about waking up is if someone wakes me up before my alarm has rung. Oh, I hate those people… I really do.

One Monday morning was the worst. I had exam week and my exams didn’t start until the next day but my mother and father had found this a concept really difficult to understand so that at five forty five in the morning I am awoken by the vibration of my phone. The complete and utter horror! I pick up the phone

Me: what? [I say this with all the love I can master]

Mum: Wa, don’t you have exams today?

The Thursday before I had explained to my mother who never listens that my exams begin on Tuesday…a fact she chose to ignore. That would explain why she thought waking me up at 5:45am was a good idea. Thank you, mother.

Me: I told you that my exams start tomorrow.

Mum: oh sorry. Continue sleeping [not going to think about it]

I turn off the phone and since I’ve been having trouble sleeping, I take the next thirty minutes attempting to fall back asleep. Finally I do, but that wasn’t good enough for them because one hour and forty five minutes later I am roused from my slumber once more.

Admittedly this time it was my fault but I’m not about to take blame because my alarm is going to ring in an hour and as long as that still hasn’t happened it is their fault…it is SO their fault.

My father wanted the keys to the car and I had forgotten to give them to him. He had told me he was leaving at 6:35am but he was calling me at 7:30am…wow he was late but that wasn’t my concern so he didn’t have to use his ‘I’m in a hurry’ voice.

Me: yes?

Dad: mum, you’re still asleep?

How does he do it? [this is the sleep talking]

Me: yes.

Dad: can I have the car keys please?

Maybe I imagined the ‘I’m in a hurry’ voice but I don’t care as long as he woke me up, he is the enemy.

At the moment, he is my biggest enemy.

Me: huh…oh okay. Okay.

I slap around my bedside drawer and mess the already messed up things in there. I subconsciously find the keys and open my door. Avoiding eye contact [I won’t lie, my eyes are completely closed, it’s a good thing I know the layout of my room], I thrust the keys into the father’s face.

Dad: thanks. Enjoy your day.

Me: mmm…

I literally throw myself down on the bed. But it takes me another half hour to sleep and then I push my alarm to nine o’clock. I do this because I deserve this. Anybody who is attacked by their parents before they have fully awoken deserves another half hour of sleep.

I know my dad and mum don’t leave at the same time, so I expect my mum to leave at nine or nine thirty but I know she won’t call me again and I am not afraid of waking up again before the alarm rings.

That is until…I do wake up fifteen minutes before my alarm rings. I had pushed it to 9:15am because I deserved it too. The extra fifteen minutes.

Someone is calling me again. This must be a prank call because nobody hates me enough to be waking me up. I remember that my mother is in the house and I actually consider ignoring it until I realize she held me for nine months and a day so I owe her at least my ear. Even if I don’t actually listen she can get a hello.

I look at my phone screen and realize it actually isn’t my mother. Come to think of it, my mother is probably trying to drag herself out of her bed, which is just hilarious. But then I look at the screen once more and sigh angrily because the phone number isn’t on the screen but a name meaning that I know the person. I read each letter one by one and take it all in.

That’s when I realize that I do not recognize the name. I might have saved it but I do not register it in my head. Maybe I’m too sleepy or maybe I don’t care enough to remember.

I put my head on my pillow. But now the thoughts are in my head and I can’t get them out.

Who the hell is Opicho?

The joys of having a big brother...

A.K.A Don’t eat pepper when you wake up

When I was a young lass [I’ve been watching a whole lot of British programs, understand] I sincerely thought my brother was the meanest person in the world. Yes, that’s right my brother was a downright bully. I’m not talking shove you on the ground kind of bully, I’m talking play the most meanest tricks on your sister bully.

If you have an older brother, you know.

In my eyes, he was evil.

I’m guessing you don’t believe me. Well here’s something that should give you a push.

I used to suck my fingers and because I liked to stand out even when I was a kid, I didn’t go for the obvious thumb in mouth scenario. No, I was all middle finger and ring finger of my left hand in the mouth. I was cool.

Obviously.

It was the holidays and I think it was a weekday. I had been taken to my bedroom to have my usual afternoon nap and there is no good sleeping in this world if you have not slept with your fingers in your mouth. The action always put me to sleep, I’m talking maximum K.O.

I’m guessing in hindsight, this is what got me in the trouble that happened next.

My brother is five years older than me that meant that at ten years of age, he could do two major things; he could escape mandatory nap time, and he could reach the top shelves of the kitchen cupboards because he was tall.

Apparently he decided he would use this against me.

Even though I am a strong willed individual, it goes without saying that, I couldn’t keep my fingers in my mouth while the muscles of my lips took a time out from all the talking that I did during the day. Naturally they fell out of my mouth.

I stayed asleep.

My brother must have come into our bedroom [it was odd, and still is that we shared for a while], and seen his opportunity.

In my opinion, this is what he must have looked like seeing me lying there so open to his bullying.

He must have been salivating over his dumb luck.

[In my head] he ran down the stairs taking them two at a time. He stretched his hand and after picking bottle after bottle of spices he finally landed on the one thing that would make his day, black pepper.

He grinned like a mad scientist.

He ran up the stairs, this time three at a go. He was getting excited.

He carefully put the pepper, in surplus amounts on my exposed fingers and held back his evil laugh for fear that he’d be caught in the act.

I slept on.

He must have realized that I could sleep forever and he would miss the chance to see me in pain so he figured he should wake me himself. He ran back down the stairs and put all his ties to the crime away.

Then he set his plan in motion.

“Wa! Wake up!” he bellowed from downstairs [nobody speaks in my house, by the way, we shout…I’ll tell you all about that].

I was startled. I sat up in bed, disoriented and it took me sometime to take in my surroundings. You never know where you’ll wake up when it comes to my brother.

I recognized that I was safe and relaxed casually.

I didn’t hesitate to go about my usual wake up routine, of up and steady, fingers ready.

I shoved my favourite part of my hands into my mouth.

It was a slow reaction but that didn’t stop it from alarming the neighbours.

The heat radiated from the back of my tongue to its tip.

My first thought, was 'what had I dreamt about?'

My second was ‘I need water, a lot of water’.

I screamed, a loud heart warming… ah who am I kidding, a loud blood curling scream. In my head that was what was exactly going on. My blood was on fire and it needed to be cooled.

I jumped off the bed, screaming as I went along because I think my tongue was too numb to make any pertinent sounds. I was officially speechless.

The pain was spreading to my throat.

I went for my comfort zone again, fingers in mouth. I realized my mistake and quickly pulled them out, screaming immediately after.

I ran down the stairs, four at a time [beat that bro]. I didn’t think to run to the kitchen first. I do not have good instincts in emergency situations, I just don’t. I ran outside, with all my noise and dram [thanks to my genetics] and screamed the whole way running in a circle just for the sake.

The neighbourhood kids gave me a look and I think one of their dogs grinned [Dogs. Are. Evil… no offense Zozo]. There was no help there.

I ran back inside and to my honest surprise, I found my brother rolling on the floor laughing his head right off his body. He looked to be in pain, as if the laughter was taking out all his energy.

It quickly clicked in my noggin [the British are doing this to me]. It was him…ALL HIM!

“Buli, you put pilipili on my hands?” I asked of course it sounded more like, “oooi, oo oote e e e on my ants?” complete gibberish and my brother carried on with his laughter because to him it was just that funny.

But what about me and my tongue?

And what the hell was I doing standing around wanting to start a dialogue with a probably swollen tongue and laughing hyena.

I looked around for water. It was in the fridge but I couldn’t reach the cups. That meant I had to ask my brother for help. The same brother who had caused all this trouble. The same brother who stood there and watched me struggle for the cups. The same brother who was still laughing at me.

Wow, I was screwed.

I pestered him to help me but as I said, he was evil in my eyes. So this is what I gather happened. He laughed some more, I spat out more gibberish and in the end because he has a way of twisting things, I started laughing at myself. At myself? Really?

I was pathetic.

Eventually the pain did go without the water. I figure if I had drunk the water, it would have hurt a little more because the fridge water was really cold and I’m not sure about what extremely cold can do to extremely hot.

I hear it’s bad.

Or good. I don’t know the facts.

My brother finally calmed down too and told me he was not sorry and that he had had a lot of fun.

I took it as it was, leaned on the counter and sighed heavily.

I put my fingers in my mouth.

HOT! HOT! HOT!

The spiral began all over again, the running, the laughing and the dog.

I can’t believe I forgot to wash my fingers.

Jeez Wa! Think!