I’m impatient as fuck.
I hate waiting. Waiting is the bane of my existence. If
waiting was a vegetable, it would be okra.
But unfortunately for our kinky haired protagonist, I have to
wait. It’s just one of those things I can’t avoid: inevitable.
I’m one of those people who’d play the Sims and have my girl
Sim meet a boy Sim on the street, maybe make some small Sim talk with him then
I would dedicate the rest of my time playing that God-forsaken game into making him fall in
love with her as quickly as possible so they can start their little SIM family
& I can finally feel like I’ve accomplished something for once in my damn life.
This never worked out too well. The boy Sim always found my
girl Sim too pushy which apparently is a major turn off for guys in the Sim
world. But I just HATED having to wait!
They’d have to be random friends first, then bffs before
they can be romantically involved with each other; that would have taken about
5 days of playing which is like 2 years in Sim years which is a lifetime in Mel
years. Ugh!!! Can’t two physically compatible Sims just meet, have a quick
conversation to check if anyone’s dumber than the other and cross off any deal breakers
and just get to doing the nasty & popping babies?
(Believe it or not, this isn't a metaphor for anything. I
just hate how slow those darn Sims are.)
But again, everything good in this realm requires patience
to be attained. Sucks hairy ape balls but that’s just how the cookie crumbles,
honey. Tough.
I have to wait and follow the path of consistent exercise
& fruit so that I don’t look like a badly cooked mandazi in the next 3
years and so that I can get that banging outer body little dinosaur child me day
dreams about. (My inner body’s looked like a slightly abbier version of Beyonce’s
ever since I was 5 years old so I’m good on that page.)
I must wait and study so that I can sleep at night without
breaking into an existential cold sweat. (And also, I really want to get to that point where I can work “Mandamus”
into my everyday conversations)
I am obliged to wait & moisturize & deep condition
in order to get healthy flowing (uhmm, 4b/4c hair doesn’t flow, it shoves)
coils and walk around looking like black mermaid Ariel. I’ll even get the sea
shell bikini top to go with my new found identity.
And a lot of other things but it’s mainly those 3: Be hot,
be smart, be mane-y.
Ugh. I wish life had a fast-forward sometimes, (and an erase
for those Saturday nights I yelled YOLO too loudly, too many times) but mainly
a fast forward.
