He puts the C in CTE

Hola peeps. Y’all good?

 

Man, I have not felt this rested in a long time. It’s weird ‘cos I fell asleep about 9pm last night while reading, woke up at 3am to find the lights on and that I hadn’t brushed my teeth before bed. Dragged my stanky breath into the bathroom and after brushing teeth, I did 3 Duolingo lessons, then went back to reading essential articles on the phone like how Tom Cruise was able to execute that bi-plane stunt in the latest Mission Impossible movie, before nodding off again and waking up at 730am.

 

Yesterday, I went on my last run before the Comrades marathon, and it took all my effort to finish the 20km. The hot weather didn’t help, and wasn’t surprised when I found myself already exhausting two “c’mon, son!” exhortations and one Jonathan Majors pout within the first 5km. That caused me to doubt my ability to complete the Comrades again, even though I had done it last year. That anxiety persisted throughout the workday until after another disappointment, stemming from the lack of drive among some work colleagues to complete the simplest tasks. After one guy had the temerity to ask about taking two paternity leaves in the same year ‘cos two of his wives are preggers, it quickly dawned on me that I’d rather endure a 90km run any day than deal with these guys.

 

You know my crazy Belarusian friend Liza, who psyched me into doing the Comrades last year and declared it “fun” afterwards? Unfortunately, she wasn’t issued a visa by the South African authorities this year, so she had to cancel her flight and hotel booking. Normal people would moan or, like me, would be relieved at having a ready excuse to avoid running 90km. Instead, crazy Liza found a 100km race near her and crossed the finish line (after 11 hours and 43 minutes) as the top female competitor. I need saner friends.

 

So, how have y’all been? Thought I’d shoot out this blog before the Comrades marathon in case I lose all will to communicate afterwards. Just so y’all know, like last year, I intend to take a month off running after the marathon. I deem it necessary, as I have noticed my pants falling off my waist over the past two weeks, and a friend I bumped into on Friday said my cheeks had sunken. Could that explain why I can no longer open my laptop by facial recognition? As is now my norm, I treated myself to a mani+pedi and haircut ahead of the marathon. I was gonna shave off all my beard, but if the last Comrades is any indication, I’ll need a way to hide my post-race uber-sunken cheeks.

 

In addition to the “no running for a month” stance last year, I tried to include a “no YouTube for a month”, but messed that up a few times to watch 90s boy band videos and crack up at their longing looks at the camera during slow songs. Trust me, if you are ever in the mood for a belly laugh, watch a 90s boy band video with the sound off.

 

I am glad to report that the “wahala dey o” guy in Juba finally paid back the debt, which I subsequently lent to someone else on the same day. Ha. I never learn, do I? Following the last blog, I contacted my lawyer in Lagos for an update on the debt recovery process, and he informed me that the case is currently at the Serious Fraud Unit (SFU) of the Nigerian Police. Still, they were requesting about N650,000 for “mobilization”. He said he was currently negotiating with them to reduce the mobilization fee to N500,000 and was seeking my permission to furnish them with the funds. While lamenting about this to my mate Miguel, he told me it might be best to reach out to the SFU HQ in Abuja, as, from his experience, the SFU guys in Lagos have been known to collect funds from both the claimant and the debtor. He even mentioned the names of the SFU officers to avoid. Ha.

 

I therefore reached out to mates in Abuja, and one of them told me he knows a guy at the Department of State Security (DSS) who has been known to help recover funds from intransigent debtors. I contacted the officer concerned, and he balked at the mobilization fee being requested by the SFU in Lagos. Long story short, the DSS officer demanded N300,000 for their mobilization and, like the SFU, their MO is to get a 10% cut of the amount reclaimed. You gotta love the Nigerian justice system.

 

Speaking of, my case against IGI Ltd that was due for judgment on May 20^th was moved to May 26^th as the “court did not sit”, and on the new date set the case was postponed as “the judgment was not ready, so a new date will be communicated for the judgment”. Nothing shocks me about Naija anymore.

 

I was shocked though to wake up two Sundays ago and find four missed calls – between 207am and 2018am – on my local number from W. Well, it’s likely from her boyfriend Paul ‘cos there’s an SMS sent between the missed calls that read, “Pls I will get you criminal”. Awww, so polite of him to use one of the three magic words. I wasn’t shocked at this threat, just that he usually makes them via WhatsApp. I reckon Paul is South Sudan’s version of Beetlejuice. Instead of calling his name three times, one must only mention him in an obscure blog post for him to reappear.

 

I went to Aminarrrgh after church on Sunday ‘cos my left shoulder’s been killing me due to my weird sleep positions. I should record myself when sleeping to see how to correct for this, as since the last blog, I have tried everything from tucking my hands under the duvet to sleeping with my hands tucked inside my PJs. No dice. One morning, I woke up to find that I had gone to the other extreme by having my hands crossed over my chest. I must be performing Tom Cruise-like feats in my dreams, huh?

 

Since I couldn’t attend the carbon capture and utilization conference in Dubai, which I mentioned last time, I have committed to attending my mate’s 50th birthday celebration in Thailand, if I secure the visa. There’s a VFS office in Juba that claims to be able to help with that. If that doesn’t pan out, there’s my cuz’s 50th in Tunisia in October, which I’d love to attend, but I haven’t the foggiest about obtaining the visa since there’s no online application option. A fallback is another mate’s 50^th in Cancun in November. Man, I was really hoping to revisit Zanzibar in November, just like last year. Was planning to stay at the same hotel and possibly the same room to see if the TV is still wonky.

 

You see, the only disadvantage of the Zanzibar trip was that there was no footie on TV. You won’t believe this, but the hotel had 10 betting channels, some of which featured virtual sports, such as virtual dog racing, but no regular sports channels. I mean, what gives? Funniest thang, though, was the two US channels that were supposed to be dubbed in Swahili and French, respectively. However, all one heard on the supposedly French-dubbed channel was spoken English, with a voice repeatedly saying the word “French” every 2 seconds. I kid you not, I still have the recording on my phone. The Swahili one was even worse ‘cos it showed images, but no English was being spoken. All one saw was the word “Swahili” flash across the screen every other second. This debacle musta been the result of some dude, probably the TV station owner’s new trophy wife’s brother, who the station manager was forced to contract to dub voices with language translations through AI.

 

The failed Dubai trip also made me sign up for a virtual 2-day leadership conference. What did I get out of it? My main takeaway was that I talk too fast and should s-l-o-w down when presenting to ensure the audience understands what I am saying. That’s as veridical a statement as there ever was, and I wasn’t surprised at this ‘cos at various points over the past months, Vicky complained about the same, and a friend hilariously commented about my “talking in small letters”. Now, that would be the perfect title for my autobiography.

 

Tot ziens and God bless.