Adulting gbas gbos
I wonder if this comes with adulting.
Every time I leave the house, the most heard method of saying hello these days is “savings or current”. How is it that no one informed me that becoming an adult means I would have an invincible label on my face that says “bill her”? I don’t even have the money you are billing me for! I just came out to catch some air and maybe hear some scandalous gist about how the “along” driver was blessing his passengers with immense body odour. One of the passengers called his attention to it and he replied with: “na only dead bodi dey use perfume” or when another passenger seating in the owner's corner snatched the phone of the passenger buried in his phone which we later found out was a means to distract himself from the odour as he dashed off from the taxi. That was the plan. Why am I been billed?
Times I remember I have become that aunt that always has to drop money for biscuits and ice cream every time I visit my niece and nephew, I go berserk. I love having them around too but I also do not enjoy how their visits put unplanned expenses in my pocket. I also do not want to be the stingy aunt. How do I tell these kids politely that í’m not ‘father Christmas’?
I love my friends. So much. And I need them to succeed. I often would make a joke saying: my friends have to be wealthy and influential, so I get to live this “baby girl life” in my 80s.
These days, I’ve caught myself filled with so much pride and jealousy about my friends in one breath. Sometimes I feel it’s FOMO pro max. I am at a phase Christians would call a waiting season. That phase, when everything you try seems to go against you. At that moment you are exhausted from trying and you really want to pause but then you realise you really can’t. You live in a country that doesn’t seem to know the term PAUSE. Everyone seems to be chasing something.
There’s also a part shame plays. You see your friends achieving great things and dreams they confided in you about-you are genuinely happy for them but then again, there are bouts of sadness hovering around because you wish you were also winning like they are.
It’s harder talking to them. Hearing them reel out their achievements with the hope of receiving accolades and cheers but all you feel is jealousy and joy until you are left with one thing. Withdrawing from them.
Then there’s the part where you can feel your resilience developing muscles. You don’t seem to have the emotional capacity for BS and unglorifying conversations anymore. You realise the world is already hard as it is, you don’t plan to compound it by doing more than you can take. You’ve attained the age where you master the subtle art of minding your business and it feels refreshing.
The age in time when your body parts begin to have a mind of their own, especially that ‘madam bearer of children. It used to be the wine that gets you hot and libidinous. These days, everything including water can get you (redacted). Then you remember you are still single to stupor.
This adulting life sef
