Adulthood: The Place Where Streaks Go To Die
There's a way life will stress you, you will end all your streaks, cut your hair, or in my case - forget you're a writer. Moving out was step one in my “ I'm finally a big girl” delusion. (Yay, independence!) Congratulations to me and only me, it wasn’t easy. By the time I sat down to calculate how much money I’ll need to furnish my space, I was in shock for almost an hour straight. Please don’t ask me about the price of curtains and mattresses because hot tears will roll down my cheeks! What on earth do you mean by I’m responsible for my wellbeing? When did that one start? How old am I? I feel sad for my mom now, because I call that woman at the SLIGHTEST INCONVENIENCE. “Hello mummy, how do I get to VI from Surulere?” “Hello mummy, I’m just coming back from work and there’s traffic everywhere” “Hello mummy, I don’t know what to eat this night” “Hello mummy, I’ve been having headache all day” I know she must be SICK of me (sorry not sorry😂) My friends are scattered ...