Dee In A Nutshell

Feed Me, Love Me, Never Leave Me.


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Things I have done on the back of a boda boda

Boda bodas and I are insperable. Honestly the day I dall off one of those things will the day I stop riding them. They get me everywhere and I mean everywhere, be it 10m or 10km or 10 miles (which one is longer?) Anyway, I have become so comfortable on those things that I can afford to do some things that people would find absurd. Below is my list of things I’ve done on the back of a boda boda.

  • Read a book
  • Attempted to write in my diary
  • Played air guitar
  • Played air drums
  • Changed simcards between phones
  • Talked to someone on the road
  • Talked to someone in a car
  • Tried to talk on the phone
  • Had a conversation with the boda rider
  • Asked for a lesson from the boda rider
  • Shared it with one other person apart from the rider
  • Shared it with two other people apart from the rider
  • Flipped off some moron who cut us off
  • Taken off my sweater and put it in my bag
  • Taken my sweater out of my bag and put it on
  • Gotten rained on
  • Worn lipstick/lipgloss
  • Attempted to comb my hair
  • Attempted to apply eye shadow
  • Fallen asleep/dozed (in my defense, I was really tired)

What have you done on the back of a boda?


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Just one of those days…

Today has just been one of those days.

It started when I woke up in the morning and couldn’t find what to wear to work. Every shirt I tried on could not button up when it got to my bust. I am not very big busted, mind you, but my arms have put on quite a bit of weight since I bought these shirts. Eventually I found one that still fit.

I got to work and found I had been assigned all the day’s tasks as well as the weekly report I have to run manually that takes me about 8 hours to do and I had no seat because my shift starts when everyone from the morning is still around.

I put down my bag and as I bent to get my phone, I heard a rip. My shirt had ripped just a little bit on the seam under my armpit and a bit towards my back. Remember I have to type all day long so the tear is very visible. I laugh it off and continue working.

6 hours into my shift, I send someone to get me water in my water bottle. The kind sir fills my bottle and gives it to me. As I tip it back to drink from it, water gushes out from it down the front of my shirt and my skirt because the lid wasn’t on tightly enough. I wipe it off because there isn’t really much I can do.

As I go to throw the tissue in the bin, I bend to wipe my feet which had also gotten wet and the tear in my shirt expands. It now looks like this.

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Honestly, I haven’t laughed this much in ages. It felt like I was starring on one of those silent movies where the main character keeps getting into trouble.