Its 2pm on Saturday and I have been in my towel for about one hour now, doing nothing: not taking a shower, not wearing my clothes – I just feel so comfortable in my towel and if possible I can be like this all day. I remember my mum scolding me for doing this many years ago when I was still a teenager. She would shout, “When are you going to get out of that room and take a shower? Owuro lojo!”
Then as a teen I’d be distracted by an interesting movie showing on TV or a book that I am reading (I have always loved reading books). Then I’d tell myself “Let me just watch/read for 5 minutes before going to shower”. Then I would sit through 10 minutes of the show or book. I would then say to myself again, “maybe I should just watch/read for another thirty minutes”. By the time its thirty minutes into the movie or book, I’d tell myself that the movie is almost over anyway, so its better to just see it to the end (or read that chapter to its end). By the time I’m done and decide to finally go and take a shower, two hours or more has already been spent!
Ok back to Saturday afternoon, just before deciding to go into the bathroom, yet again, I felt my stomach grumble with hunger, so off to the fridge I went still in my towel, in search of a snack, which took another 10 minutes. Ten minutes after, hunger satisfied, I hurriedly jumped into the shower and took a bit of time daydreaming about Idris Elba (yes he’s my man crush, ok lets not go there okay?) and how wonderful a date with him might be. Shower over and I came out of the bathroom to put some lotion on my body.
Just as I picked up the lotion and balanced myself well on the edge of my bed, facing the TV, a show started on Investigation Channel, about how a husband killed his mistress a few weeks after she told him that she was pregnant. “Hmmmmn,” I said to myself “Na wa oh, some men are wicked sha…” Then I decided there and then to see how the show would end, because my immediate desire was to see what happened to the “killer man”. Though I already knew that for the show to be featuring that story, the man must have been caught, convicted and serving time or a death sentence already carried out on his unfortunate soul. Anyways, as I slather my body with lotion, I watched as the story unfolded. Then I started to wonder to myself if such a thing could happen to me: I put myself in different roles of the characters of the story and asked several “what ifs”: What if I was the wife, what if I was the husband and what if I was the mistress? What would my reaction be if I found myself as one of them in different scenarios? As the man, would it not be better to have come clean and divorced his wife if he truly wanted to be with his mistress? (Though a long process and expensive choice, its still better than murder); Would it not be better for him to leave the mistress if she was just a fling? (Since agbada don dey hook for nail). Or better yet, maybe he should have used protection, to prevent a pregnancy (common sense is not so common when it comes to lust!). So many what ifs… but in conclusion, I always tell myself that a lot of people get into trouble because of selfishness and fear, which prevents them from thinking though their actions before carrying them out.
Anyway, I’m finally done with the lotion, walked to my wardrobe where I spent another 15 minutes trying to decide what to wear. By the time I decided on what to wear with clothes strewn all over the place, the show was over, with the end that I expected: conviction and a long sentence for the man. Then I hopped out to meet up with my date … 2 hours after I said I would be there shortly (oh no!).
So are you still wondering why I took so much time getting ready and being there on time?