25 minutes to 9 am. I don’t feel like waking up this morning. It’s cold as can be in this mountain slopes. Somebody give me a reason to wake up. First excuse me as i cuss the s**t out of everything and scream.

There. Thanks

I crawl back to bed hastily to escapethe cold air hitting me. Oh yeah, nice warm and covered. Sleep evades me and I come up with various situations of how I would want my life to be.

Like in the bed of a handsome lad whom I have a crush on.  A muslim with piercing eyes, very handsome with an infectious smile and laughter.Even his name is attractive. Who knew I would find riding camels in nothern Kenya sexy. The feeling is mutual am sure but then my pastor and Jesus would have a different opinion. I decide to leave the pastor and Jesus out of it

Or in malibu..the beach and a very handsome italian(I have heard that italian men are more beautiful than their women, calling me la princesa and speaking heavy accentuated English) applying sunscreen on me while I  drink mojitos and magueritas9 not that I know what those are  but they sound like they would go well with a beach. Then ater the beach , the spa for a deep tissue massage, manicure, pedicure waxing…the whole package.

Or in a yacht witrh nothing but a bikini gazing at the sun setting, an orange hue in the horizon whipping my weave backwards while I drink one of those tropical drinks they offer in Mombasa.

Oh well.

Back to reality.

A sufuria of last nights ugali awaits being washed among other utensils. I am thinking of washing them but the idea of cold water makes my body chill.

So yeah I am awake.Not in Malibu, not in my beau’s bed but in my room with Kelly Clarkson’s breakaway playing. Yeah I will do what it takes to make it.I slide back to bed and settle in. Utensils, dear friends can wait.

*Ugali-food cooked from maize meal

*Sufuria-cooking dish







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