The association of married and pregnant women holds its meetings twice a week. I don’t have a problem with that, except for the minor fact that they unfailingly decide to set up camp across the room from my pod at work. No, my character has not being impugned in any way – I am neither responsible, nor even remotely implicated, but their choice of venue riles me…

The topics covered are varied, but time after time they settle on being pregnant and being hot…… They can be excused – the oldest of them is twenty-six and they’re all first timers.. looking to work as long as possible before they hit the motherhood trail…. For the hour they meet, all we get to hear is trimesters, weight gain, gym routines for pregnant women… and a whole slew of designers I’ve never heard of…

If only, we had not gone ‘open plan’, I’d simply have shut my door and spared my ears the trouble….. God dey o!

The Grass is Always Greener…

Barry Schwartz, writing in The Paradox of Choice makes a compelling argument – to my mind – for cutting down the options.. One paragraph on the subject of life and partners grabbed my attention.

.. inevitably, you will find people who are younger, better looking, funnier, smarter, or seemingly more understanding and empathetic than your wife or husband. But finding a life partner is not a matter of comparison shopping and ‘trading up’. The only way to find happiness and stability in the presence of seemingly attractive and tempting options is to say, “I’m simply not going there’

…Knowing that you have made a choice you will not reverse allows you to pour your energy into improving the relationship that you have rather than constantly second-guessing it.

The grass is always greener – we need to learn where/when to stop looking!

On Memories…

It is not what is lost that hurts the most,
It is the thing that takes its place –

– Jerome Kugan (The Myth of Displacement)*

I say the things that try to take the place of what is lost – yet fail to do so, or even come close  –  are what hurt the most. They bring back memories…..which often are more legend than reality – the perfect bloke he never was, the doting girl she never would have been, the manipulating mofo everyone but you could see…..

I say Memories are like wounds kept raw by the rub of a blunted saw.

–  Sigh

* From the poem “The Myth of Displacement” from Dance the Guns to Silence – Nii Ayikwei Parkes and Kadija Sesay (Eds)

The ‘Case’ for Smoking and Drinking…

I have a theory…. The world would be a much better place if everybody smoked and drank together..

This is a finding that cuts across age, race and location… I have found it true – based on anecdotal evidence mind you. I have not quite acquired the cross gender data yet… but I suspect it still holds true….

The proof? The way people’s eyes light up when they share a smoke…You can almost feel the electricity of bonding as they exhale in unison.. The smoke from their nostrils blending into an upward swirl… especially if it is a shared stick… Or more.. The sense of fully belonging when beer bottles lose their contents… Men are never more equal than before the bottle… Stories of hurt, of pain overcome and of success unlimited are swapped with reckless abandon under the inebriation the lager induces…. I suspect people would trust their smoke buddies more than their priest..and given the news continuously breaking, I wouldn’t begrudge them the lager…

I still don’t smoke or drink.. yet.. Maybe when I feel the world needs saving in my own little way… I’ll start 🙂

The only thing worse than boredom..

The only thing worse than boredom is routine. I find myself living each day like a dream – sleep, wake, eat, work and sleep – Waiting expectantly for the 3pm chime that alerts me to the impending freedom from boredom –  and then the bus that takes me home.

Each day passes – sometimes like a bore, sometimes like a breeze – living for the weekend – and then the dread as the weekend ends – and the grind starts all over again. This is the life of me!

The Mother’s Day Conundrum..

My Mother is my mother – so in theory, I should send her a gift for Mother’s  Day – that’s a given, even if its only an extra long phone call 🙂

What worries me though – and this is all altruistic –  is where the wives, the sister who is now a mother,  the aunts and the girlfriends fit. The wife, or official girlfriend is a critical case in point;  they are not your mother, and they usually do not have children who are old enough to get them gifts for the day – but they do have the influence and ability to make the day horrible for one….

So do we,  in the interest of peace because we love them soo much, assume the responsibilities – which leaves us blokes even more confused  – or do they simply chin up and wait till their own children grow up and get them gifts? Is there even a category for prospective mothers? Or does it really matter?

If wishes were horses

If wishes were horses… I’d be out playing golf at the moment; not crunching numbers and telling lies giving expert advice to clients. This glorious sunshine is simply begging for a game of golf!

Sadly, I am neither kith nor kin to Dangote nor to Mutallab Snr; and my dear father (bless his overly patriotic heart) turned down the offer of a tenure at Bristol back in the day 😦

There is also the small matter of the grossly incompetent fairy godmother; who has consistently failed to deliver the lottery numbers.

Infact dear fairy godmother you’re fired! And on your way out, kindly take santa along. I have no further use for you lot!

Re: 2010

Coming into 2010, it was clear this was the year that could potentially make or break me. Coming off a mid-life crisis in 2009 a nasty break up in 2008 that was finally formalized in 2009, and major changes that seemed intent on tossing my well laid plans aside, I thought four things would be a small number of items to focus on – turns out even those four are a big ask.

Of the four, work’s pretty much gone OK – two months in the bag(nk); healthy eating/ losing weight has been iffy – I registered at a gym and have been there once in two months so far; God and I are still borderline – marginally regressed if truth be told; and the people side has been decent – made up with the elder sister I have had issues with..
Some things to be thankful for.. But more work to be done I would say..

The formula for a perfect wife..

A bride should be five years younger than her groom, should come from the same cultural background, and be the more intelligent of the pair if couples are to have a successful marriage, scientists have announced.

Apparently the critical difference in intelligence is 27%… leading to a 20% increase in the probability of a good marriage. Perhaps eHarmony can include these critical findings in their much vaunted Compatibility algorithm. I have already included them in my spreadsheet!

HT : The Daily Telegraph