The world spinning.
This is not real life.
I feel twitchy, sitting here. Twitchy. But I can’t move. There’s nothing for me to do. This is not real life, I say. I’m in a funk. I have nothing to do. And I have nothing I want to do.
Nothing to do. There’s nothing to do and no way to change this. It takes so long for anything to happen here.
Schedule a meeting. Meeting is canceled. Go to the boma. Come back again. Everyone is leaving. Everyone is somewhere else. There is nothing to do. Nothing at all to do.
After elections, there will be things to do. Just then. Just okay. Its all just okay.
Go home. Cook some food. Finish your book. The sun comes out, the sun goes away. Fetch water. Wash the dishes. Sweep the floor. Sweep again. Eat your food. Go for a run. Read your book.
Look at the calendar. One week and elections will be over. Make plans to make plans. Plans to start programs. When the rains end. When the teachers return. When people finally have time to work. When life will still be this slow.
Close the calendar. Ten minutes have passed. Open your book. Close it again. Go outside. It’s too cold.
The rains will come back again, or so the clouds say. It is still so cold, that is what the winds say. Step inside. Put on another jacket. Open your book.
Make a list in your head: all the things you could do today. Think of what you want to do. The winds come in. Bundle up a bit more. Go back to your book. Stare at the page.
This week you have read 1700 pages worth of books. 1700 pages. You close your book again. Not bored as much as appalled by that thought.
Ten more minutes have passed. Its still the long afternoon. Stare out the window. Pray for some rain. Let your eyes fall on the puffy clouds instead.
Get up. Light the brazier. Happy for a bit of warmth. Happy for a bit of work. Make your muscles move. Think of something new. Listen to some music. Get out of this sedentary funk.