Setting up the The Ramblings of a Madman home office...

The holidays have been hard. Of course sleeping whenever I want and waking up whenever I like is nice, but it’s not at nice as having somewhere to go and something to do. Believe me when I tell you that the way to a fulfilled day or life is some structure. For weeks without end, I did nothing, but wake up sleep and saunter from party to party. 
That's me more than a little bit tipsy in Badagry. It's sort of like my country side. I go there whenever I'm absolutely fed up with life in Lagos. It happens more often than you'd think. I apologise for the bottle of water in my hand, but hydration is necessary for survival when you've hopped on the booze bandwagon. 

Some of it was fun but quite a lot of it was more exhausting than work. At least when you go to work for your daily bread you don’t wake up with the devil’s hangover and vague recollections of stupidity. 

All of that was very well and good until Harmattan came like a thunder. It just occurred to me that some of you may not know what Harmattan is, so I will tell you. Harmattan is the closest thing to winter that Lagos ever gets, but instead of snow, you get dust. Yes! dust literally falls from the sky. It blocks out the sun, clogs up your nose, and sneaks up your arse hole. For the past weak or so, I’ve been blowing my nose and seeing mucus tinged with dust! It’s dust! dust! everywhere! In some parts of Nigeria it gets cooler temperature wise but Lagos is not one of those parts. It’s heat, and humidity, and dust. A NIGHTMARE. 

When Harmattan came in like the wicked witch of the west I was passed out after a truly excessive night. In the morning I woke up like so. 

This is literally how I woke up one day. This is not a good look. In this picture I look like death, I look like I feel like death, and like I'm praying to be euthanised. I had the cold that Harmattan tends to bring. I don't know how people act normal when they come down with a cold. I tend to act like I'm a cancer patient. The sounds I make are groans. 

When the Harmattan cold passed I decided to put my wayward ways behind me and get to work, but there was a problem. If I said that I would wake up, crawl the two feet or so to my desk and write, I’d only be practicing self deceit. This young masterful chairman needs a different location from his bedroom to work in. I took the initiative to set one up. 

I walked out into the garden, a wondrous creation with its ficus trees and the flame of the forest at its South most tip. The sun bore dow on me with all the brutality of 2016 and the Buhari Recession. 

I call it the Buhari recession because as far as I'm concerned, the recession is a product of his administration. If he had acted when he should, the country's economy would not be in such dire straits. 

It would be impossible to work under such tortuous conditions so I put my thinking cap on, a blue felt Ralph Lauren snapback. A vestige from my past life as a British Public School boy. 

A couple of years ago we got an umbrella for the garden. Like most post adult children households dreams of barbecues and random garden gatherings remain dreams. The moment a child tastes the freedom that adulthood promises, the nuclear family unit becomes slightly less interesting. So the garden paraphernalia, the badminton net, the new grill, and the too large umbrella have all gone unused.
Can we take a minute to talk about how fantastically fabulous my shorts are? First off they're Speedos and they're bright pink. Some times when you're a little mellow you need a little yellow to pick you up. As I despise yellow, pink was the next best thing. These sports shorts are so short that if I do not wear the right sort of underwear my penis is quite literally bound to glance at the world from one leg or the other. I don't wear them very often but what's home if you can't be stupendously outrageous?

I stuck the umbrella in the middle of the garden and opened it. I didn't know how terrifying it would be until I did it. There was a lizard trapped in the eaves. It took will power I didn't know I had to not scream "Mummy there's a lizard coming for me. Save this Chairman!" Because I'm 26 and not a 2 year old girl I retrieved my balls from wherever they were hiding and slapped the shit out of the lizard. I did not collapse in defeat and that's something to be proud of.

Anyone with half a brain knows that one simply does not spank one's lizard in plain view. This is me spanking my lizard away from prying eyes. Aren't I the cleverest chairman in all the land? 


Lizard vanquished, I opened the umbrella, pulled out 2 garden chairs and called the spot my home office.



Happy Days,
Afam

3 comments:

Chukwudi Emmanuel Udegbunam said...

Baba God has sha refused to crown my hustle for lean thighs πŸ˜”πŸ˜”πŸ˜”

P.S: HNY and welcome back πŸ˜„

Mountbatten Desmond Ogilvy said...

Love those frames. I'm gonna be on the lookout for them.

Great Lady said...

Your backyard is very beautiful.

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