There seems to be two things that black people are always doing. The first is running and the second is waiting. At quarter past five this morning when I went to work I saw young and old, male and female black people running, lunchbox in hand, backpack swinging on the back; they were all running to work. It saddened me a lot, I walk because I don’t want to drive. I have the option to drive my car but I don’t- they don’t have this option. It’s sad because they woke up early before the sun rose and will probably get home after the sun rises.
A few hours after the sun rose a group of middle aged white men cycled past me, for recreation of course, I wondered if they would be so jolly if every day they had to cycle to work in the dark and at the end of the month get a meagre pay.
While procrastinating this evening I watched the same human beings of the morning file a long line across a building- the taxis were coming in slow and the wait was long. A woman who had just done her grocery shopping was struggling with all her plastic bags, and a bottle juice fell out while she was crossing the street, she had to run back for it with all the plastic bags in hand, behind her taxis were speeding up to her; she did get the juice safely and joined the queue. Twenty years ago my grandmother was this was person, she woke up at half three in the morning Monday to Friday and came back home at eight. I’m pretty sure my future will be different because my parents worked hard and I try work hard. If I have grandchildren I’ll probably spend the entire day with them because I will be able to afford it. I will not deny that the black populous is in a better position than it was some twenty years ago, change has come and a few have been able to move up the classes but progression is too slow. I don’t know why the black nation is in the position of scavengers in a jungle were they should be the hunters; it is after all their jungle.
Work was a bore, a painful tedium that cannot be explained. I bought some fruits from the Mozambican sellers on Kerk Street because I don’t have any food and I was craving avocados. I just ate one like it was an apple- it was very rich and oily. I managed to exercise today which broke my five day hiatus- it is amazing how hard it is to get fit but how easy it is to lose fitness. I felt after my exercise I was not on par with my progress. Afterwards I prayed to God to give thanks for all he has done in my life and also for a breakthrough for Xoli; God knows she deserves it most. I tried to shower afterwards but the water was cold; I’ll shower in the morning.
I’m getting used to the noise and did not take any anti-anxiety pills today. I’m also getting used to my space and the room does not seem so small anymore. A neighbour dropped by and we spoke for a while. He me told he wants to buy meat but doesn’t have a fridge and I told him he could use mine since mine is only filled with fruit and yoghurt. I have learnt, in my short stay here, how to be accommodating and open even when I do not feel like it. My patience is better and I am able to hold conversations for a long time even if sometimes they are about nothing which irks me. I have realised that I am not my world and will at times need other humans besides my family to intervene in certain situations like needing a spoon or milk or something that is pertinent to the human hunger. If you’re kind, hopefully others will be kind back to you.
The Landlord made an unexpected visit just after I had finished exercising so my room smelled like shit, I was only embarrassed after she left because only then did I realise my room did not smell good. She walked in, noted what my room still needed and then noticed my books on the table and asked if she can borrow one- I consented.
I am out of hot chocolate and I am happy that tomorrow is pay day. I’ll be able to buy hot chocolate and wine. I’m just thinking of the bills I’ll have to pay- fuck being an adult; I’m going to need that wine. Now that I think of it the only interesting thing that happened at work is that my manager changed her lipstick colour from pink to red. I hate the red, pink suited her more. She is as short as me and has the sexiest eyes- I cannot look at her for long. I have often caught her checking me out, that is I see her scanning me from head to toe. She once commented on the size of my calves and I did not know if she was complimenting me, but what I know is she is definitely not gay because my gaydar is on point and also she has a boyfriend. Maybe she’s just curious, maybe she wants my body not in the sexual way maybe she just wishes she had my body. I wish tomorrow she has the pink lipstick on because I really cannot stand the red and I cannot look into her eyes for long- where will I look?