I’m sure the “Imisi, Editor” thing must have hung a few questions on your mind. Not to worry, that phase is over. Alas, I’m now an EX-something; they tried to make it fancy by calling me the IPP – but you get the point. One way or another, the past must hand the future over to the present; it’s the cycle called life.
A while ago, I presented my handing-over speech. Funny how it’s the opening line I typed many weeks ago – the one I deliberately didn’t mention – that still dances around my head. “22, April, 2011: Today, I begin typing my handing-over speech – not because it’s due soon; rather, that I may someday learn to write my will long before it is due”, it read. Good thing I had more than a month to ‘Obama’ the whole thing (hehehe). Lemme know if you’re interested in the parts I didn’t skip.
Now, to today’s issue! It may interest you to know that I started this post about a year ago. The true details may never make the news, but by the time you reach the end, you’ll know exactly why it just got published.
“Never has there been a more convenient, more misleading assumption than that tomorrow’s agenda is freer than today’s” – Imisi
“Procrastination is, hands down, our favourite form of self-sabotage” – Alyce Cornyn-Selby
I remember growing up with an insatiable appetite for pastry. No matter how huge my portion of the cake, jam tart or apple-pie was, I’d always go back to ask mom if I could have “just a little more”. The answer was usually a mood-dependent variant of “let’s save the rest for the rainy day” – a line that always pierced my heart. As time went on, however, I began to nurse the idea of the rainy day as that one day (hopefully before Armageddon) when I’d have limitless access to all the pleasures mom’s over-planning denied me. What a sweet day it’ll be. Truth is: I’ve looked forward in delight ever since.
Now, welcome to a future in which I’ve just got back home from work. It’s been a very busy week as I’ve already had to make trips to six different sites. You see, my company’s been handling a lot of projects lately. And, being as obsessed with quality and detail as they know I am, I always get to “do the rounds”. Still, I’m the very last person you’d ever hear complaining. I just love my job; it’s like nothing else matters. The exposure’s beyond my usually unchained dreams. My colleagues are great and inspiring; always leaving that air of friendly rivalry about the office. No one has to tell you to stay on your toes if you want to be relevant in another five minutes. And, the pay’s to die for too. So, I’m not complaining; that’s exactly how I like it.
Work’s over for today, and I just got back to my very comfortable apartment. I don’t mean to be blasphemous, but I really hope my house in the afterlife is this good. I’d usually catch a little rest while trying to ignore the load of non-office work I’ve been postponing forever. That’s when I just sit and stare from the veranda, my palm freezing away from gripping an iced drink. Moment of inspiration, check; gym, check! Now, after a proper meal, it’s time to prepare my schedule for tomorrow. That’s neither new nor hard – seeing as the job’s practically my life. It’s what I would gladly pay good money to do! You know how they say a task gets easier when you leave it for a while? Well, true or not, that’s always the justification for spending the next few hours before my huge plasma screen TV and/or tweeting. If ‘playing’ would make my work at the office easier, then I better give my very best to it! All other work can (in fact, must) wait their turn.
It’s now bedtime and my head’s flooded with plans for my presentation. I’d have to convince the board to switch to low-emission drillers if we are to avert the impending law-suit(s). All the paper-work has been done; my facts have been articulately laid out. It’s now all a matter of delivery, of confidence – and that, precisely, is the game I play best. “Bring it on” are the last words on my mind as I conk out. Next stop: 5:12am (typically)!
To my utter shock, I wake to the sound of a loud crash instead of the usual semi-pleasant cacophony of my alarm. It takes a fair amount of time to understand that it had been raining – and quite heavily too. The idea and timing of the rain are, in no way, strange; it’s the middle of the rainy season. What is, is the intensity with which the skies shed their tears. I don’t want to be hasty in dubbing it a storm, so I keep my cool and shut up all my windows firmly. Panic’s the last thing I need before my presentation. Things however, soon become clear: there’s not going to be any presentation today. In fact, unless I enjoy some undeserved goodwill, the only thing I’m going to be presenting is my case before God. The storm’s plans to crash the house on my head seem to have garnered large support.
It is soon bright enough to see and my window reveals just how much damage has been done. Thankfully, the storm has now reduced in intensity; but can that reverse all the havoc of broken power lines, flooded homes and scrambled schedules? I keep a firm gaze outside as I ponder my lot. I can’t help thinking I’ve got it fair, considering all the valuables I see the rain cart away unchallenged! “It’s cozy in here; the worst is on the other side”, I muse to myself. “Maybe this is just the day-off I need; my much-awaited rainy day”. Chills, however, soon race through my spine as I turn around to see a gloomy, neglected house – a very direct reflection of the life that owns it. What a scary revelation! It suddenly becomes obvious that I’m not locked away from the rain and the cold. I’m locked in with my demons; with the ghosts of tasks left undone or incomplete, with angry spirits of aborted ideas – all seeking overdue revenge!
A brilliant idea drops in my mind: turning on the lights would make the house much less haunting. Since the rain had knocked me off the public power-grid, and there’s no chance of reaching the generator outside, I race towards the inverter. My highly capable ‘Hercules’ inverter, custom-built to suit my power needs, whatever will I do without you? As I approach the gadget, I begin to fantasize about what movies to watch. Only then, do I realize my folly; the inverter lead had been broken for over a month – and I had kept deferring my trip to the electronics store. The damn thing wouldn’t even have cost a hundred naira! “What sort of day am I having today? No presentation, no power, no illumination!!! Since when did it become a crime to love one’s job? Admitted, they’re a few other things to do – but a man’s got to prioritize! Now, I’m made to pay for all the times I treated my job as the ‘ultimate’ activity; how unfair!” The thoughts just keep rushing through my head.
The story continues in ‘Rainy Days: The Sequel‘. Stay sharp!